When Silence Dies
by magic26446
Summary: Sam and Dean have always been the two brothers with a target on their backs. Their sister, Skye, was somehow able to escape notice, for the most part. How will the family manage when she becomes the new favorite bulls-eye? Eventual Cas/OC.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. However, I had no beta for this prologue. So, any mistakes do. Happy reading!**

Prologue: When Silence Dies

Silence filled the spaces between the trees. A light snow was dusting the ground, covering the footprints that had spattered the area. The bite and whistle of the wind remained the only indicating factors that sound still existed. For the crickets were not chirping their nightly chant. No owls hooted from the tops of the evergreens, and the fox that had made his home on the forest floor was shrewd enough to duck his nose back into the earth. The atmosphere was oppressive and suffocating.

From the depths of the darkness, a shrill scream pierced the air. Sam's eyes darted over to his brother's form resting heavily against a nearby tree. His eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, but the blood darkening his hair told another story. Sam contemplated his next move. If he left Dean behind, he would be unconscious and unprotected from the monster that was lurking in the darkness, but he could not stay here waiting to be found. Another blood-curdling scream seemed to make up Sam's mind for him. Knees bent so as to stay as silent as possible, and gun clutched tightly in his hands, Sam rushed toward the sound of the wail.

The shroud of night deepened as he drew closer to the noise. There was a point where no light seemed to touch, pointing him to his destination. He slowed. The yelling had ceased quite suddenly. That could be either very good, or very bad, but his upbringing had taught him caution above all else. A large oak served as a pivot point, as he tried to figure where his next move should bring him. The blackness had not changed position when he chanced a glance. Taking a steadying breath, he once again started traveling towards it, though his pace was diminished.

A startled call from behind stopped Sam once again. " _Sam?_ " Dean's voice growled through the darkness. There was a hint of hysteria in his vocals that was only present when one of his siblings was missing. " _Sammy!?"_ He called again, more vehemently. Sam cursed in his head. He should never have left Dean. His brother never stayed out for long. He doubled back, warier than ever. Dean's voice would surely draw what lay in the darkness. His eyes darted in as many ways as possible as he traveled as he tried to catch a glimpse of Dean. By the time Sam had backtracked nearly halfway, he spotted his brother following the tracks he had made only minutes before. They were already being erased by the wind and snow, but Dean's keen eyes had been trained to see the subtle signs that most missed.

Sam let out a low whistle. He was crouched by a tree facing Dean as he to hide his massive form from any enemies lurking nearby. Dean's head snapped to the side at the sound. He spotted his brother and the manic glint in his eyes lessened considerably. Sam made the hand signals for _enemy_ and _cover,_ and signaled toward where the blackness still pressed in on the forest. Dean nodded and crouched behind some nearby brambles, his eyes never leaving Sam's figure.

Both men took a minute to listen for any sound of impending creatures. Only the whistle of the wind greeted their ears. With a practiced synchronization born from a lifetime of collaboration, both Sam and Dean separated further and started moving towards the darkness at a steady pace. Another cry sounded, and the brothers quickened.

Sam clutched the knife tighter in his hand as he heard movement off to his left. The footfalls fell in conjunction with his own, and he feigned ignorance of their presence. It was better to draw the creature in closer. From the flicker of black he caught in his peripherals, Dean was being trailed as well. He dare not say anything. The creatures were too close, but Sam knew that Dean had his own knife gripped in his hand. That was better than nothing.

His shadow was closer now, maybe five feet behind. It was time to make a move. Midstride, Sam twisted on his right heel, bringing the knife sharply upwards in a wide arch, hoping he had correctly estimated the speed and distance of the creature. A warm spray of blood hit his hand but the knife pulled out into empty air. He had hit the monster, but not made solid purchase like he hoped. It made no sound as it launched itself at Sam. He stepped out of the way of the blow, and quickly turned as the creature tried again to attack his flank. Sam heard Dean let out a sharp exhale from behind, but was unable to investigate.

It was difficult to keep an eye on the creature. It was blacker than the night and seemed to slip seamlessly from shadow to shadow. It stood on two legs; its hunched back gave the impression of the posture of an elderly man. Though it's six and a half foot frame, and broad shoulders, were more than any old man could boast. Its hands, carving through the air, were elongated and ended in sharp razors. Sam jumped back at another vicious attack from the creature. His foot caught something on the ground and he fell backward catching himself with one hand, the other swiping out blindly with his knife. It hit nothing and the creature was able to go for the obvious opening in Sam's defenses. He fell fully onto his back with the weight of the creature. An oomph escaped his mouth as the air was knocked from his lungs. His legs bunched up and pressed out with a kick, at the same moment, a sharp sting pierced his left shoulder. The weight lifted from him momentarily and he was able to gain his feet. His breath was heavy and his eyes were slightly blurry. He could no long see the creature. He blinked his eyes and shook his head, hoping to shake the confusion from his brain.

No sound had come from Dean since the first, and Sam felt a momentary panic not only for himself, but for his brother somewhere behind him in the darkness. He bared his teeth and searched frantically around for any sign of movement. There! From just off to his right side, Sam spotted a change in the darkness. It swept closer quickly and Sam was able to sloppily lean away from the attack that was to come, but halfway through the creature flashed with a white light and fell to the ground. The fall of the corpse, made a heavy thud. Perhaps that was the loudest sound it had ever made. After all, noise is the sound of silence dying.

Sam exhaled as his brother was reveled from behind the creature. A small smile played on his lips briefly. "Thanks," he breathed. Dean looked mostly unharmed. His head still had some now dried blood on it, and there was a small rip in his shirt. Only a few drops of dark were visible in the dark on his shirt, but if Sam had to guess, he would say that the wound had already stopped bleeding.

Dean grunted in reply to Sam's thanks. "You ok?" he asked, gesturing to Sam's shoulder with the Angel blade in his hand. It was coated in dark blood. Sam nodded. It hurt like hell but he'd had worse, and somewhere in these woods, their sister was counting on them. They needed to hurry. As if in answer to his thoughts, the worst shriek yet leaked out into the night. They were much closer now. The sound sent a shot of adrenaline through Sam. That yell was so full of pain and tears. It practically stilled his heart to hear Skye's cries. He forgot his own injuries as he dashed towards the sound. Dean was hot on his heels.

They came upon a clearing. It was as if a spell had been cast over the area. One second it was as if they were walking into a black wall, and the next they could see clearly what was in front of them. They stilled.

Skye was strapped to a large redwood dominating the middle of a clearing. Her clothes were tatters, hanging from her frame by what could only be assumed as pure force of will. Her whole body looked like it was coated in blood. Sam couldn't tell where the exact injuries were, but he knew that he had to get her out of there _now._ A man stalked around the tree almost leisurely. He was speaking in low tones, which Sam couldn't make out. As he talked he waved around a knife in his hand like he was conducting a symphony of his own making. He had yet to notice the addition to the clearing or the death of his minions, but it was only a matter of time.

His tone changed slightly. It went deeper, and he enunciated each word with malice. Skye spit at him. Sam would have smiled, if it had not been for the way the man reacted. His knife tightened in his hand and he plunged it deeply in the top of her shoulder. She let out a howl of rage and agony. Sam fed off her howl. His vision turned red, whether it was from her rage or his own; her pain or his own, he did not know or care. He bolted forward toward the man his knife raised.

The man caught Sam's eyes as he neared. He had retrieved the knife from Skye. With a smile the man raised the knife, and, without taking his eyes from Sam, plunged it into the Winchester sister once again. She did not scream.

 **A/N**

 **Hello readers (hopefully)! I can't say I know exactly where this idea came from, but it formed nearly fully in my head when I started thinking about it and I knew that I had to write it down. Yes, I know the Winchester sister story line has been done MANY times over. I hope to distinguish myself from the group, though. I know you probably have a few questions. The pace to this prologue was very fast. Don't worry though, it was meant to leave you with questions. This will eventually be a Castiel/OC. Yes, that is another question you should be asking yourself right now. Where is the angel up the Winchester sleeve?**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a review! Let me know if this is something I should continue.**


	2. Chapter 1: The Time Between

**Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!**

Chapter One: The Time Between

Skye would like to say that she managed well. She would like to say that the pain of losing her brother subsided a little each day. She would like to say that she could sleep through the night without visions of his torso ripped to shreds, and the blood that coated her hands as she tried desperately to put him back together.

 _Please, just let him live! We can fix this! "J-just hold on a little longer, OK? You're gonna be OK! I promise just a little longer..."_

As it is, the things we want to say about ourselves are rarely true. Skye couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the truth. She had failed. It had been her job to protect her brothers, and she had failed not just the once, but twice now. Sammy should never have died, and Dean had to go and fix her mistake. After he was gone, she couldn't even find it in herself to go after Sam. Look where that had gotten her. He was missing. Dean was dead, and she was a complete and utter failure.

Bobby had housed her for a while. He never said it, but she knew he could see the pain she was in. He would bring her food, and try to keep her busy. " _Hey kid, I've got some hunters looking for some information on shades. Wanna git down here and help?"_ Or: " _You know a thing or two about cars, right? Got one coming in today I want you to take a look at."_ For a while, it helped. He would give her small chores to complete and when she finished that he would pull another one out of the air. She even adopted his busybody mentality. It was much harder to dwell when she was engaged in a task. So, she cleaned his house, organized his books, did research, and even tried her hand at cooking. Though, she was not sure how well she faired at that. She didn't taste the food when she ate it. Yes, it was much easier to accomplish everything when sleep wasn't an issue. Working until she dropped from utter exhaustion, Skye would then catch a few hours of restless sleep until she woke with a start and started all over.

After about two months, she had enough. Her anxiety, guilt and sleep deprivation made her quite volatile to talk to, truthfully. She needed to fight something- let out her aggression. Yelling at other hunters on the phone for being dumbasses just wasn't cutting it anymore. She hit the road. Early in the morning, she walked out of the house, a duffel bag slung over each shoulder. Bobby was waiting for her. He would have made a good father. He had the intuition of a dad. Always there when she needed him, it was as if he knew her mind better than she did herself. She gave him a quick hug and a small smile. All he said was, "Stay safe, idjit, and check in once in a while."

"Of course, Bobby. Thank you," She headed out into the misty morning, and that was that. Her rearview mirror showed him on the porch until she turned out of sight.

Luckily, Sam had left the Impala. He probably thought it was too easy to track. A nice car like that can draw attention, but Skye didn't know any other car. That was her home, and being in it was the most comfort she had received in a long while. The smell of leather and gunpowder reminded her of Dean and her dad. She didn't know if that made her want to cry or smile. So, she put on Zeplin IV and pressed the gas a little harder. It felt good to be home.

The cases Skye worked were duller than she recollected. Mostly, she found ghost cases. Interviewing the witnesses was more difficult than she remembered it being. Her whole life she had been desensitized to the grieving widow, or the heartbroken children. Guess she was getting soft in her old age. That wasn't the worst part, though. The hours of sitting in an empty motel room to research, with nothing but her laptop and a hard mattress for comfort, was driving her up the wall. At least at Bobby's, while she was researching, there was still the sound of the phones ringing and cars being towed. From time to time an acquaintance of Bobby's would even stop in to visit. Here, alone in the motel room, the sound of silence only reminded her of all the things she was missing.

A couple months had passed, she guessed. There really was no reason for her to keep track of the ticking of the clock. It didn't change anything. Bobby checked in once a week or so to see if she was alright. She always assured him she was. He always pretended to believe her. It was no surprise when her phone rang out, Black Sabbath's _Paranoid_ playing from where it was laid on the nightstand. "Hey, Bobby," she answered after looking at the caller ID. She had been getting a lot of calls from weird numbers today. Sometimes, Skye just wasn't in the mood to deal with other people's problems.

"Hey, kid. I've got a bit of a problem. You near Sioux Falls?" Skye perked up at this. Bobby hardly asked for help.

"I'm just outside of Cheyenne. I can be there eight in hours. Probably less. What's wrong?" Skye was already packing her things. She only had one duffel bag full of clothes, but somehow they always ended up scattered all across the motel room. Sam had always said it was a gift. Her father had said it would get her killed one day. Skye had always rolled her eyes at that. Somehow she doubted that, of all the ways she could die, laundry would be her undoing.

"It's- uh- a bit difficult to explain. Just git here." Bobby grunted.

"Ok. See you in a couple hours." Skye hung up. She never was one for goodbyes and she needed both hands to pack. One quick trip to the front desk later and Skye was on the open road. _Sioux Falls, here I come..._

 **A/N Hope you enjoyed! Leave me a review, please :)**


	3. Chapter 2: Sobs that Fill the Night

**Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy and leave me a review, please!**

Chapter 2: The Sobs That Fill the Night

The drive to Sioux Falls went by in a blur. Bobby had called Skye near mid-day, and night was just beginning to cloak the sky when the roar from the Impala could be heard within the house. Parked in the drive was an old 1962 Mercury Monterey Custom. It did not look well taken care of. Skye wondered what guest Bobby would invite that cared so little for their vehicle. In her experience, hunters generally saw their vehicles as extensions of themselves, and with the way she was raised, neglecting proper car care was an affront to her personality. She remembered her dad teaching her and Dean all the ins and outs of the Impala. It was some of the only good memories she had of the man, all the time they spent under the hood together. Sam had never wanted to join. He would rather read a book than tinker with a car.

With a knife slipped in her jacket pocket, Skye exited her vehicle. Her duffle sat in the back seat. There was no reason to unpack just yet since she had no details on what Bobby needed. In all likelihood, she would be leaving again right away. As she approached the house the curtain flickered. Skye didn't catch much of a glimpse of the person inside, but she knew it wasn't Bobby. For one, the person was not dawning a baseball cap, and two, her surrogate uncle would know the sound of the Impala in his sleep. She slid her hand into her pocket nonchalantly. Not many people would think twice about the motion, but those who knew Skye would recognize that she had a hand poised on her switchblade, just in case. It had been a gift from Dean on her last birthday. Sam had got her a replacement blade in silver and iron. Even in death, Dean was always trying to protect her.

The door swung open just as Skye was about to reach for it. Her eyes landed on the _thing_ that stood in the entrance. Her green eyes flashed into burning emeralds. "Nope," she insisted, as if commenting on the weather, and turned on her heel. She had a gun in the car with silver bullets. If she had been thinking rationally, Skye would have realized she was in shock from the sudden sight of her dead brother. Refusal to believe he was back was the only way that she could take care of this. If he spoke, she doubted she could handle putting a bullet between his eyes. Adrenaline pushed her forward and she dived for the door of the Impala. The creature was just behind her, having frozen for a second at her reaction. It probably thought she would either attack it or hug it, not just leave. The joke was on it. Her gun was just inside, and the bullet would move quicker than that creature ever could. _Probably a shifter looking for revenge,_ she thought.

A hand grabbed her elbow and tried to turn her. She turned into it and brought her opposite arm up to clutch her attacker's shoulder. Her right leg swept around to knock hard into the back of its knee. He fell, arm still trying to clutch hers. She used it as leverage and brought her left leg up to bar across his neck, successfully creating an armbar on the attacker.

"Uh- Skye- stop-it's- me," the creature managed to gasp out. It wiggled a bit, trying to feel for any ways to break free. Her arm pulled his back further. It let out a groan, feeling the muscles protesting heavily. If it tried anything more, she would surely snap the limb without a second thought. Before she could answer any of its protests, Bobby appeared where they had been second before.

"Whad're you idjits doing in my driveway?" he called over to them. When there was no answer, he continued, "Skye, let your brother go. It's really him." Dean's look-a-like grunted in agreement.

Skye scoffed as she tightened her grip on the monster a bit more. "Why should I believe you? You're probably one of them as well!" She yelled back. She was trying to figure out how to get to her gun before either of them could catch up. The knife in her pocket had been forgotten in all the confusion, but she remembered it now and figured it would be a good way to distract the monster. She'd have to let go of the monster she had cornered in order to get the gun or the knife, though, and she was not very fond of that idea. It was best to keep them talking so they hopefully wouldn't attack her until she fully formed a plan.

"Oh, fer cryin'…" Bobby monster muttered as he marched closer to her line of sight. He held up a silver knife. A pentagram decorated the base of the blade. Skye had seen that knife many times over. It was one of Bobby's favorites. He held the blade to his bare forearm. The flat end was against his skin. Skye was able to observe that there was no sizzling or burning. "That good enough for you _princess_ , or do I have to cut myself open?"

"Holy water. Flask in the glove compartment." Skye commanded. She was fairly convinced Bobby was not possessed. He was one paranoid bastard, but better safe than sorry. She had drawn a devil's trap in invisible ink on the ceiling of her car and taped a strip of salt on the underside of the door handle. Assuming he actually went to the car and didn't attack her, Skye would know if that really was Bobby in seconds. The grumpy hunter put away his knife and raised his hands, as if in surrender, as he walked around the Impala to the passenger side. There was no noticeable reaction as he opened the door and grabbed the flask Skye had mentioned. She visibly relaxed as he exited the car and took a shot of the water.

"Happy now?" the hunter asked. She nodded and confusion began to mar her brow as she looked at the man pinned beneath her. He sure looked like her brother. His face was flushed from lack of oxygen, but his eyes bored into hers, imploring that she believes them. Those eyes. She and Dean had the exact same eyes. Sometimes when she looked into the mirror, she could imagine it was him looking back at her. There was always something lacking in the expression, though. Dean could have a whole conversation with just the tightening of his eyes or quirking of his brows. She looked at him now. His brows were drawn in slightly and furrowed, but it was the sparkle that convinced Skye. No person, creature, or memory could duplicate how Dean was able to speak with his eyes. They showed worry now. Not about himself, but about her.

Skye slowly released his arm and swung her leg off his neck. She heard a weird gasping sound. It took her a second to realize it was coming from her, and a tremble shook her whole body. Night had fallen completely now, but there was no chill in the air. The moon and stars illuminated the scene as Dean quickly sat up, taking a steadying breath. He had a smile on his face until he turned and saw his sister, shaking and nearly hyperventilating. She stared blankly at her hands, not even seeming to notice the wetness pooling in her eyes.

"Hey, hey," Dean soothed leaning forward to capture her trembling figure in a tight hug. "It's okay. I'm back. I'm not going to leave you again." She clutched to him, not really comprehending his words. In her head, his voice was muffled but soothing. It felt as if her brain was backing away from her body and she couldn't quite capture what was happening. All she knew was the arms around her. That was enough for now. Soft sobs escaped her lips, and she buried her head in his shoulder. He still smelled like whiskey, motor oil, and gunpowder. She clutched him harder, not daring to release him from fear that it was all in her imagination. The realization that he wasn't going anywhere started to calm her, and the knot in her chest slowly started to release. Her body began to slump sleepily against her brother. She shook away some of the lethargy and lifted her head to look at him.

"Hey, sis," he smiled at her.

"How?" Her voice was raspy, and her face was probably red and blotchy from the tears. She didn't care.

One side of Dean's lips pulled down in a frown. "I don't know. Me and Bobby were talkin' and we figured either you or Sam had done something. Well, I'd have to say, it wasn't you….." He trailed off, not saying what they were both thinking. What kind of deal could Sam have made to resurrect his brother from Hell? He cleared his throat. "Come on. Let's get you inside. I'm sure Bobby has the whiskey all lined up for us by now." They were both still kneeling in the driveway. Dust had heavily coated parts of both of them, but neither seemed to care. Bobby had obviously left to give them privacy some time ago. Skye hoped she hadn't made too much of a fool of herself.

Dean stood first, taking hold of Skye's elbows to help her to her feet. She stumbled slightly. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving her weary on her feet. She waved Dean off. After all, he was the one who had just come back from the grave, and here she was acting like an overgrown baby. Dean would tell her he didn't care, but Skye did. She was the big sister, and here he was taking care of her. That wasn't how this was supposed to work. She shook off the guilt and walked towards the door, never letting Dean out of her sight. She still was not entirely convinced this was not a dream.

Dean noticed how her eyes never left him even as he pulled open the door and smiled, ruffling her hair. "Miss me, sis?" He asked playfully.

Skye tried to smile back, but only managed a weak twitch at the corners of her mouth. "You have no idea." He grabbed her in a side hug and led her through the door. True to Dean's prediction, Bobby was in the library with a book open on his lap and a glass in his hand. A bottle of whiskey was open on the desk, and two glasses sat next to it. Both were half filled with the amber liquid. Dean had been right about Bobby being inside lining up the booze for them. He would always tell people: " _Just because it kills your liver doesn't mean it ain't medicine."_ Skye gave him a real smile as they entered. Bobby always did know the best way to take care of her. He nodded in understanding.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up? We'll still be here when you get back."

Skye hesitated. She really did not want to let Dean out of her sight, but she could feel how covered in dirt and dust she was. Not to mention, how puffy and red her face must have been because of that breakdown. She cleared her throat, hoping that her voice would come out fairly clearly. "Yeah, okay. Don't decide anything without me though."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dean smirked at her. She pushed him lightly, and he let out a short laugh.

"Jerk," She muttered under her breath. She took the glass and downed it before she walked out. She ran to the car to grab her bag, intending to shower and be back in less than five minutes. When she made it to the shower, though, the hot waves of water kept her hostage. All of the tension and tiredness in her muscles leaked away and she let it work her magic. It wouldn't do for her to break down again. She was stronger than that and embarrassed as hell that it had happened in the first place.

Fifteen minutes later she emerged lightheaded and happy. Bobby and Dean were still in the library. The whiskey had taken a bit of a hit, and Dean had changed into clean clothes. They were talking low, and Skye thought that she heard her name, but ignored it as she entered.

She walked over to the desk and refilled her cup. This time she did not down the whole thing but took a long sip before she put it down. "So, catch me up. When did you get back? How did you get here? Why didn't you call me?" She turned to Bobby. "Why didn't _you_ warn me over the phone what I was about to walk into?" Bobby opened his mouth, but she had more questions and didn't give him the opportunity to answer as she turned back to her brother. "Do you know who brought you back? Do you remember Hell?" She paused and a horrified look came over her face. "Was that _your_ bucket of rust sitting in the driveway?!"

Dean could not help it as a laugh escaped him. "Oh gosh," he wiped imaginary tears from his eyes. "Of all the questions you could ask and the only one you seemed to care about is if I've lowered my standards of cars. Never change, Skye." She gave him a mock glare, but could not hold a smile back at his amusement.

"Well, have to keep your priorities straight," she said in a serious voice. To be honest, Skye didn't know if she was serious or joking at that point. Her head was flying with glee, and perhaps a bit of the alcohol. The smile she couldn't hold back any longer lit up her face. Everyone knew when Skye was truly happy because it was the only time they got to see the dimples hidden in her cheeks. Sam had the same dimples, but Skye always thought they looked much better on him.

Bobby interrupted, "Well, Dean managed to track down where he thinks your idjit brother is holed up while you were on yer way. We don't know anything else 'sides this one digging himself out of that pine box this morning." He jammed his thumb at Dean.

Skye's eyes snapped back to her brother. "You had to dig yourself out of your _grave_?" The idea was absolutely horrifying. Not that she was particularly claustrophobic, but waking up in a coffin and having to claw your way through wood and dust just to get to the surface did not sound pleasant. No one should have to go through that, but, then again, no one should have to experience most of what her family went through daily.

Dean nodded in affirmation. "Yeah," he answered gruffly. "And that's not all. Whatever brought me back was packing some seriously bad mojo. It was like a bomb went off at the grave site, and then there's this," he pulled up his sleeve to reveal an angry red handprint on his bicep.

"What the hell?" Skye asked in astonishment. "I've never seen anything like that." She hesitated, turning to Bobby who was a walking encyclopedia of all things weird. "Have you?"

"Negative, but I know someone who might be able to help us. A psychic. Name's Pamela. We just need to collect the third Musketeer first." Skye considered this. She had never put too much stock in psychics before. In her experience, they were often just trying to scam people out of their hard-earned money. But Bobby wasn't one to be taken for a fool. If he said this Pamela was the real deal, then she would believe him.

"Okay. Let's go get Sammy." Despite the late hour, no one wanted to wait to reunite with the youngest Winchester. So for the second time that day Skye headed out to the Impala to hit the road. Only this time, she was not alone. As the car roared to life, Dean by her side, the dimples on Skye's face were deeper than they had ever been.

 **A/N Hope you liked the chapter. That one was about double what I have written so far. Do you like the longer chapters or should I stick with the short ones? Let me know!**


	4. Chapter 3: The Lie that No One Calls

**Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. Also, keep in mind the views of my characters do not necessarily reflect my personal opinions.**

 **Thank everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited! It really makes my day to see that.**

Chapter 3: The Lie that No One Calls

Skye let Dean drive on their way to collect Sam. He always did love her car, and Skye was convinced, for a while, that her father was going to give it to Dean instead of her. She half-considered giving it to him a few times as well. He named it 'Baby' and doted on it more than she thought was entirely healthy. In all of their lives, though, she and Dean had been apart a whole of two times. So, she didn't really think it mattered who _technically_ owned the car.

The first time they had been a part, was when Dean had decided to take a summer trip by himself. As she recalled, he found a girl and was just generally up to no good. It was harmless, enough, and he had come back sooner than she expected. Dean wasn't one to be far from his family. The second time they had been apart, was the past four months. He did not need the car to tour Hell, though. Still, Skye figured she may gift it to him sometime soon. Maybe call it a welcome home gift?

She sighed. He hadn't answered any of her questions yet, and she didn't want to push, but it was eating her up inside- not knowing what he had suffered or if she could help. Dean seemed to sense the direction Skye's thoughts were headed and glanced at her. In all honesty, he had expected her to be asking questions from the second the door had closed in Bobby's driveway, but, at that time, she had still been radiating happiness. She blasted the car stereo, singing loudly, and off-key to all songs while she bobbed her head and drummed the beats onto her legs. Dean laughed and sang along with her the whole way. A couple hours had ticked by now, and they were both sitting in relative silence. The radio was reduced to background noise, and, despite the late hour, neither sibling was complaining of sleepiness.

"We both know you're dying to ask me something," Dean ended the silence. "Hit me with your best shot!" He gave her a crooked smile before turning his eyes back to focus on the road. Skye studied his face a second before answering. He was showing his normal cocky Dean Façade, but there was something lurking in his expression, a deep sadness that kept the smiles from reaching fully his eyes. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what could affect her younger brother so deeply. Without a mother, and John Winchester being the hardened father that he was, Skye had been emotional support for her brothers their whole life. She had been caretaker and mother to them because there was no one else. Not that she was complaining. Quite the contrary. There was nothing she would not do for her brothers, but that didn't keep her from being wary. She knew the pain Dean was carrying from Hell was not something she could transfer to herself or just laugh away, and that scared her more than anything else. Skye knew that Dean would never open up to anyone else, Sam being the obvious exception. She had to let him know she was here for him no matter what. Nothing he could do would drive her away, and she would do anything in her power to help lessen the burden on him. He should never have had to shoulder it in the first place.

Skye chose her words carefully. "I know that you did what you did to save Sam and that you would do it again in a heartbeat." Dean opened his mouth to argue the point, but she raised a hand to stop him, and he reluctantly closed his mouth, jaw clenching tight. "Not that I would let you," she said softly. "That was not your burden to bear, Dean." _It should have been mine,_ she added in her head. She pushed on. "That being said, I am so _proud_ you brought Sammy back to us. You are the best big brother anyone could ever ask for. I know you can't pick your family, but if you could I would pick you every time. I missed you so much… " She looked up from the dashboard and at Dean's face once again. His green eyes were swimming slightly. She pretended not to notice. Just as he probably pretended not to notice the wetness to hers. "I-I don't know if you remember being in Hell, or if you blacked it out, but, if you need to talk about it, I'm here." Skye left it at that. Dean hated chick flick moments but had always been a bit better showing his feelings when it was just the two of them. She shot him a small smile. Her mane of dirty blonde hair fell slightly over her face as she turned. Dean returned her smile.

"Thanks, shortstop." He used her childhood nickname. As he reached over to squeeze her hand, Skye decided to break the tension.

"Oh, come on! I am not that short!" Skye defended herself. "Five-seven is well above average for a woman! I can't help it that you and Sam are freakishly tall giants," she grumbled and pouted at the floor.

Dean let out a barking laugh. "I agree that Sam is freakish," he conceded with a head tilt. "But I am juuuust right." He drew out the word 'just' longer than necessary, reminding Skye of how she used to read Goldilocks and the Three Bears to Sam. (Dean had insisted that he was too old for child stories, but she always caught him listening in.) She scoffed at him.

"Oh, yeah," she joked. "And I'm trying out for Miss America this year!" Her voice got high and ditzy at the end, in imitation of how she thought girls in beauty pageants spoke.

"Hey! No need to bring my girls into this! They work very hard to get where they are. You're just jealous," Dean defended.

"Riiiiight. And, by work hard, do you mean get the judges hard? Because, I'm pretty sure there is only one way to become Miss America, and it ain't by volunteering at the local homeless shelter."

Dean let out another belt of laughter. "Touche, sis." He conceded, still chuckling. "So, how long we got left to get to Pontiac?" he asked. She looked at the watch on her wrist and shrugged.

"Couple of hours, did you need to catch some sleep? I can drive for a while."

Dean shook his head. "Nah. I caught a nap at Bobby's. I'll be good for a while yet. Why don't you try and sleep? You can't be all that fresh after the day you had." Skye thought about it. She didn't want to close her eyes, for fear that her brother would disappear. She knew it was irrational, but she had been hoping and praying and wishing for this every hour of every day since he had died, and she did not want to give up a second, but her bones were weary. She could feel the toll the day had on her. Not to mention, she hadn't been sleeping more than a couple hours a night, if that. Her body could use a couple hours of recovery before they made it to Sam. She nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I guess I could use a couple hours," she admitted. "Wake me when we get close?" she inquired.

"Of course," Dean promised. Skye reached into the back seat to grab the pillow kept there for when she did not stop at a motel. She plumped it up against the window and let her head fall onto it.

"Night, Dean," She whispered, as her eyes drifted closed. She was asleep before he could even voice a reply.

BAM! BAM! BAM! Skye woke with a gasp, pulling her switchblade out of her pocket, and searching frantically with bleary eyes to figure out what was happening. The sound of deep laughter confused her until she looked to her right and saw Dean doubled over at her embarrassing reaction. He had a coffee in his left hand, and his right clutched a stitch in his side. "Oh, man," he chuckled as he was finally able to straighten up. "I should start every day like that. The look on your face: priceless." She opened the door and stepped out, sticking her tongue out at him like a petulant child.

"That coffee better be for me," she grumbled. He nodded in affirmation and handed the cup to her. His eyes were still twinkling with laughter. Skye resisted the urge to hit him. "Where are we at?" She questioned, after inhaling a long deep drink of the hot liquid. It burned her mouth slightly, but she didn't care.

"Just pulled into Pontiac," he said. "Figured we could use a pit stop, and you could use to clean up a bit," he joked, tasseling her hair. She batted his hand away grumpily and took another greedy sip of coffee.

"Yeah, yeah," she agreed. "Just give me five and we can get going." Dean nodded and walked over to talk to Bobby, who was drinking his own coffee a couple car spaces away. Skye saw him and waved. "How ya doing, Bobby?" she called over.

"Fine, fine. Go take care of yer business so we can get there. I've been on the road too damn long," Bobby said.

Skye waved his grumpiness off as she walked into the small convenience store. The bathroom required a key that was 'FOR PAYING CUSTOMERS ONLY' according to the sign on the door. She sighed and went to pick something small out. It would have been easy enough to pick the lock, and she was the only customer in the store, currently. So, she wouldn't have to worry too much about someone walking in on her, but it was early and she would rather not have to commit an unnecessary crime. A snickers bar caught her attention, and she brought it up to the checkout line.

The cashier was a slightly greasy teenage boy. He was round about the middle and his unkempt brown hair hung just above his shoulders. He was chewing a piece of gum and looking absolutely bored. He rung up the candy bar. "Anything else?" His voice was monotone and entirely uninteresting.

"Yeah," Skye smiled. "The key to the bathroom, please."

"That's only for customers who spend five dollars or more…." She could have strangled him.

A growl sounded from the back of her throat. "Look here, buddy boy, give me the key or I take it. I don't care which, but you sure as hell will," She threatened.

He gulped, leaning slightly away from Skye. She could be scary when she wished it. "Uh, okay," he handed her the key slowly like she was robbing him at gunpoint. She gave him an open-mouthed grin.

"Thanks," her eyes flashed to his nametag before finishing, "Todd." He looked confused at her demeanor change and just gave her a slow nod. She slapped a five down and pocketed the candy. "Keep the change!" she yelled over her shoulder as she walked away. One thoroughly confused cashier stood behind the counter. At least he didn't look bored anymore.

Skye took longer to clean up than she had intended. Her hair was going every which way because of how she had slept, and water did little to flatten it. She rinsed her mouth out and polished her teeth with a finger. _Probably should have grabbed her toothbrush. Oh, well..._ She splashed water on her face for good measure and nodded after studying her reflection. She'd looked worse. She had looked _better,_ but beggars can't be choosers, right?

Skye was still the only person in the store when she exited. It was surprising Dean or Bobby hadn't come in to hurry her along, yet. Though, they always did seem to give her a little extra time in the bathroom. No doubt, they justified it by her being a girl. She rolled her eyes at the thought. As she passed the front counter, she noticed there was no Todd to be seen. _Huh…_ Her green eyes scanned the entirety of the store to try and spot where he could have gone. Nothing caught her eye. _Probably went into the stock room_ , she guessed. Maybe she had been a bit harsh. Her moods were always crazy right after she woke. She shook it off and exited.

Dean and Bobby were both leaning against their respective vehicles. Judging by how they opened the car doors and got in the second she walked into view, they were obviously feeling impatient. It only took a couple minutes to reach the hotel. Dean had tracked Sam through his phone to Astoria Hotel. Skye berated herself for not tracking Sam when he had left. She was so beside herself with grief, and angry that Sam had just left that she never really tried to find him. This made Dean sad, and she was very ashamed of herself for it. She was the oldest and should have looked for him, but they _were_ going to get Sam back, and she would _not_ let him leave again. It was his calling card. When things got tough, Sam ran away. Skye was going to have to break him of that habit. Running away from problems never solved anything.

Dean came back to the car. He had been at the front desk finding out in which room Sam was housed. He waved them over. "Upstairs. Room 207," he told Bobby and Skye. They nodded and he led the way through the hotel. It had a slight musty smell to the air, and the paint on the walls and doors was chipping and faded with age. Skye wrinkled her nose. After spending so much of her life in rundown motels, she should have been used to unpleasant aromas, but she never could handle bad musk.

When they reached 207, Dean raised his hand to pound on the door. Skye jumped forward to stop him. "Do you really think that's the best idea?" she asked him. He looked confused at her question. So, she explained. "How did Bobby react when you showed up unannounced after you were dead and buried for four months? Or me, for that matter?"

"Unless Sam brought me back," he argued, but stepped back from the door anyway and waved her forward. She tilted her head in acquiescence before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door. The heart plaque with the room number on it shook a little at the force. The door opened quickly despite the early morning hour.

"We don't need any maid service…" A dark-haired woman had answered the door wearing only a light tank top and panties. "Well, you aren't maids," the woman stated after taking in their appearances.

"I think we got the wrong room," Dean said. Skye rolled her eyes. _Well, duh._

"Sorry to bother you," Skye said and turned to leave, but a familiar voice caught her attention.

"Hey is-" Sam cut off abruptly when he saw who was in the doorway. Dean had moved back into sight when they thought they had the wrong room, and Sam now had a full view of his brother. A look of confusion momentarily crossed Sam's face before he closed his jaw and gulped, looking at Bobby and Skye for some explanation. Bobby's eye twitched and Skye's jaw tightened. Sam let out a deep breath, meeting Dean's eyes again.

"Heya, Sammy," Dean intoned.

Sam's chest was heaving, and Dean started to walk forward toward his brother. The woman had moved out of the doorway to let Dean pass. Sam quickly sprang into action at the motion. Drawing a knife he lunged at Dean. Dean barely managed to keep Sam from stabbing him, and was pushed back against the wall. The woman by the door let out a scream and Bobby jumped in quickly to hold back Sam. Skye wedged herself between her two brothers, while Bobby was managing to restrain Sam.

"Who are you?!" Sam screamed, his voice full of feral rage.

Indignant, Dean yelled back. "Like you didn't do this!"

"Do what!?" Sam spat. He is still struggling heavily against Bobby who now had a hold of him from behind, and the hate was strong in his eyes.

Bobby had tried to intervene, though his voice was slightly breathless from the exertion of holding Sam back. "It's him. It's him Sam." Sam was giving breathless exclamations of "no" under his breath. Bobby talk over him, "I've been through this already. It's really him."

Sam had started to calm down, "But..." he trailed off, panting. He looked to Skye, still in front of Dean, and she gave him a reassuring nod.

When his eyes meet Dean's again, Dean started to talk. "I know." Bobby shoots him a glance, but Dean only has eyes for his brother. "I look fantastic, huh?" He smiled a cocky grin during the last sentence.

Sam visibly contemplated for a second before leaping forward to engulf his brother in a tight hug. Skye quickly stepped out of the way to give the two their moment. Dean patted Sam's back, with a far-off look in his eyes. Skye pretended not to notice that Sam was blinking back tears. Heck, he was taking this much better than she did. No need to make things awkward. After a few seconds, Sam pushed back from the hug, and he and Dean regarded each other at arm's length.

Underwear girl finally made the decision to speak. Skye had forgotten she was there. "So, are you two like... together?" She gestures vaguely between Sam and Dean.

It seemed as though Sam had forgotten about her as well, and he startled slightly before regarding her. "What?" His confusion faded fast. "No." he insisted. Dean was giving her a bitchy look. Skye had seen that look many times when they were growing up. It was his _what the hell kind of drugs are you smoking'_ face. Sam looked back at Dean with a small smile. "He's my brother." Dean gave the girl the, as Skye had dubbed it, ' _yeah, that's what's up,'_ head jerk. Skye couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. Besides the other woman's eyes flickering to her briefly, no one paid any attention to Skye.

When the girl looked back at Dean her mouth was slightly open from confusion. "O-oh got it... I-I guess" She stammers out. She gives Sam a weird look. "Look, I should probably go." She gestures to the still open door.

Skye thought Sam agreed a little too quickly, considering he had just spent the night with the woman, but who was she to judge? Underwear girl quickly gathered her clothes and Sam showed her the door. Dean tried not to laugh when Sam called her the wrong name, but Skye just raised an eyebrow. This was _very_ un-Sam-like behavior.

The youngest Winchester finished at the door and awkwardly turned back and walked over to the bed. He sat without meeting anyone else's eyes. Dean was leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed tight across his chest. Skye was by his side. He looked angry and disappointed and Skye knew that she should be the first to talk.

"Hey, Sam." She smiled. Truthfully, she wanted to smack him upside the head for the way he had left her, but that wasn't going to get them anywhere. It was better to make him feel at ease if she wanted answers. He met her eyes guiltily.

"Hi, Skye," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh- long time no see." She shot him the 'mom look', one eyebrow raised, head slightly tilted and a hand on her hip. Sam cringed and let out a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, I guess I deserve that. I'm sorry."

"You deserve much more than that," she said. "Buuuuuut," she let the word out in a long puff of air. "I missed you too much to be mad," Skye crouched down to his eye level. His puppy dog eyes should be outlawed. "Don't do it again," she commanded before pulling him into a hug.

He laughed in her ear. "Wouldn't dare," he promised. They pulled apart and Dean cleared his throat.

"Well as touching as this is," Dean cut in dryly. Sam and Skye looked at him, but Dean only met Sam's eyes. "So, what'd it cost?"

Sam laughed. "The girl? I don't pay Dean." Skye did smack the back of his head at that comment. He rubbed it gingerly looking sidelong at his sister. She only just managed not to flip him off, because Dean started talking again.

"Not the girl," he said forcefully. "To bring me back. What'd it Cost? Was it just your soul or was it something else?"

Sam seemed to understand. "You think I made a deal?"

Bobby chimed in for the first time, "That's exactly what we think."

Sam's brows furrowed as if he's offended. "Well, I didn't."

Dean answered softly, like he was talking to a child: "Don't lie to me."

Skye thought that he must definitely be offended because he shot Dean his famous bitch face. "I'm not lying."

Dean uncrossed his arms and advanced toward Sam. Skye stood up and put a soothing hand on his arm, not that it seemed to calm him any. "So what now? I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch boy? I didn't want to be saved like this." Dean wasn't yelling but he might as well have been. He had a way of making anyone feel threatened by just being in close proximity. When his anger was actually aimed at someone, it could quickly turn scary.

Sam finally broke under the accusations. His eyes were hard, as he stood from the bed and gave into his frustration. "Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?!" Dean lunged forward to take Sam by the lapels. Skye had the good sense not to intervene. Sometimes boys just needed to duke it out in their own way. She might not like it when they fought like that, but it would be better once they got it out of their systems.

"There's no other way that this could have gone down," he says. His voice was becoming harder. "Now tell the truth!" he growled.

Sam finally decided to shake off Dean's hands, and take the offensive. "I've tried _everything_ , and that's the truth. I've tried opening the Devil's gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right?" Dean slowly nodded and some of the tension left him but Skye seemed to be absorbing the stress leaving Dean. "You were rotting in hell for months- _for months_ \- and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right?" He could no longer meet Dean's eyes and the anger seems to turn to guilt. "Dean, I'm sorry." Skye rubbed Sam's arm to try and give him comfort. She should have looked for her brother the second he left. All this pain and anger should not have been on him. Yet, she knew he was taking the blame for Dean's death. She chewed her lip nervously and tried not to think of all the things she could have done differently.

Skye looked over at Dean when he finally spoke up. His eyes were distant and saddened. "It's okay, Sammy." He closed his eyes as if praying for strength. "You don't have to apologize. I believe you." Neither Sam nor Dean was able to meet the other's eye at that point. Skye was about to try and break the tension, but it seemed like Bobby had the same idea.

He spoke up from where he was leaning against the tiger print wallpaper. "Don't get me wrong. I am gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but that does raise a sticky question." His eyes darted between the two of them.

Dean seemed to understand and finished the thought for Bobby. "If he didn't pull me out, then what did?"

Sam left the room to get a six pack so the four of them could have refreshments for the imminent discussion. He handed them around before taking a seat.

"So, what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?" Dean asked.

"Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, um…" Sam hesitated. "I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback." He sipped his beer.

"All by yourself?" Bobby asked. "Who do you think you are, your old man?" Skye cringed at this.

"You could have called me, Sam," she butted in softly. He looked ashamed yet again.

"I'm sorry, Skye. I should have called. I was pretty messed up."

She softened a bit at his words but didn't let him off the hook that easy. "I was, too, ya know? It was like I lost you both..." She couldn't meet his eyes. It had only just hit her how much Sam had hurt her by his abandonment. Sam opened his mouth to apologize, or possibly defend himself, but words seemed to fail him. Skye looked back up, waving away her discomfort. "It's cool. I know you wouldn't do it again, right?" She looked him in the eyes and he nodded placatingly. "Good."

Dean, meanwhile, had found something interesting on the ground. He held the pink bra in front of Sam's face. "Oh, yeah, I feel your pain." He intoned dryly. Sam gave an embarrassed grimace and scoffed.

"Anyways," he changed the subject. "Um, I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere, they took a hard left, booked it up here."

Intrigued by the new information, Dean asked, "When?"

"Yesterday morning."

Comprehension dawned on Dean's face. "When I busted out," he explained.

"You think those demons are here 'cause of you?" Bobby inquired. Dean pursed his lips and gave a tilt of his head as if to say 'maybe.'

"But why?" Sam asked.

"Well, I don't know. Some badass demon drags me out and now this? It's gotta be connected somehow," he reasoned.

"How are you feeling, anyway," pried Bobby. Skye got ready to intervene. now was not the time to ask Dean about emotions. He was volatile as it was and she did not wish to see him truly angry. He didn't look mad, though, just contemplative.

Finally, he answered. "I'm a little hungry." Skye didn't hold back the laughter that burst forth.

"Oh, God, I've missed your humor," she chuckled. Dean shot her an open-mouthed grin. He really did love when people found him funny.

Bobby rolled his eyes at the two of them. "No, I mean do you feel like yourself? Anything strange or different?"

"Or demonic," Dean guessed, an edge to his voice. In answer, Bobby just shrugged. "Bobby, how often do I have to prove I'm me?"

Trying to calm him, Skye said, "I'm sure Bobby just wonders why you were pulled from the pit. Nothing good ever seems to happen to us."

"Well, I feel fine," Dean defended and took a sip of his beer.

"Okay, we don't know what they're planning and we have a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help," reasoned Sam.

"We have a plan, well, kind of," said Skye. She, Dean and Bobby explained about the mark on Dean's arm and the psychic, Pamela. Sam agreed that it was the best plan they had, and they all prepared to leave.

Sam stopped Dean as he was walking towards the door, and Skye stopped in the doorway to listen. "Hey, wait, you probably want this back." Sam removed Dean's amulet from around his neck and handed it to his brother. Dean stared at the heavy metal resting in his hand like he was seeing an old friend. The face of the amulet looked blankly back at him.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Don't mention it." As Dean threaded it over his head, Sam finally seemed to gather the nerve to ask a question. "Hey, Dean, what was it like?"

Dean looked at Sam, blinking. "What, Hell?" Sam's eyes tightened and Dean quickly chanced a glance at his sister. She gave him a small encouraging smile. "I don't know, I-I-I-I must have blacked it out, I don't remember a damn thing." Skye could tell that he was lying. He had acted the same way when she had caught him smelling like an ashtray after coming home from school one day. He still had never admitted to the smoking, but, Skye being who she was, had trailed him and saw how he and his friends at the time, had ducked under the bleachers of the football field to smoke a cigarette before school. She didn't push him to tell the truth then, and she wouldn't now. He would talk when he was ready, and prodding at the sore spot was just going to turn out bad for everyone involved.

Sam may have arrived at the same conclusion. He nodded slowly. "Thank God for that."

"Yeah," Dean agreed breathily.

They left the hotel without saying anything more. Skye opted to drive for Bobby so he could catch some shut eye. Dean and Sam both insisted they were good to go. So, the four of them turned back onto the road. It was the time they finally found some answers.

 **A/N I know nothing terribly exciting has happened yet, and I apologize. I just need to set some foundation before taking the story in the direction I want. Stick with me and you won't be disappointed! Next chapter Castiel is introduced, so, something to look forward to!**

 **Please leave me a review :) and thank you to those who have!**


	5. Chapter 4: True Visage

**Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me.**

 **Thank you for the reviews and the favorites/ follows. Enjoy!**

Chapter 4: True Visage

The chirping birds and clear blue sky of the morning gave no indication of the misfortune about to unfold in a quaint house in Illinois. The house belonged to a charming psychic aged in her mid-thirties, Pamela Barnes. She answered the knocking on her door with a large smile and exclamation of, "Bobby!" The hug she pulled him into was so strong that Bobby was lifted off his feet for a second, before touching back down. All three Winchesters exchanged slightly amused glances at this, and Skye knew that she liked the woman immediately.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Bobby said, and the two of them turned to the other occupants of the porch. Pamela's eyes raked over the Winchester siblings appraisingly, though Skye could have sworn she saw a hint of predatory intent in the way she regarded Sam and Dean.

"Sam, Dean, Skye. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state." Bobby introduced. In a very Dean-like fashion, the middle Winchester said a flirty 'hey,' which was promptly followed by Sam's slightly awkward greeting. Skye just shot her a grin and waved. She could already tell her brothers weren't going to know what hit them. Dean usually only talked to the type of girls who hung out at bars, hoping to meet a decent man in all of the wrong places. Sam went for the girls who were sweet and smart, and baked cookies, or some shit like that. No, Pamela was a new breed of woman for them, and Skye could not wait to witness the hilarity that was sure to ensue.

Sure enough, Pamela regarded Dean flirtatiously. "Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual."

"If you say so," Dean said.

Pamela opened the door, "Come on in." They entered the house, Skye closing the door behind her.

"So, you hear anything?" Bobby asked. He had been on the phone with Pamela for part of the drive over. He had explained their predicament and pertinent information that the group had gathered, which admittedly was very little, and Pamela had said that she would speak with the spirit realm to try and get some answers.

"Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why." She told them.

"So, what's next?" Bobby inquired. He must have known that the psychic would not have given up that easily.

"A séance, I think. See if we can see who did the deed." Skye didn't like the sound of that. Séances tended to invite things in, and she couldn't exactly say that she wanted to come face to face with a demon that could jailbreak someone from Hell.

"You're not gonna... summon the damn thing here." It appeared that Bobby also shared Skye's thoughts on the matter.

"No." Pamela assuaged. "I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal."

"I'm game," Dean said. Everyone else seemed in agreement, though Skye was still a bit wary. So, they all followed the psychic into her séance room. It smelled of incense and old books. Skye could have been right at home. She had always wanted a room of her own, one that she could pile with books and decorate with her knives. Maybe she would even get a mace. That would look so bad-ass hung a wall all of her own.

Pamela had immediately started gathering all the necessities, and, not knowing how to help, Skye just hung back with Bobby. "You sure this is a good idea?" She asked him in a low voice. They needed answers, yes, but what happened to good ol' fashioned detective work?

Bobby nodded. "I trust Pamela. She's real good at what she does." Pamela was now teasing Sam and Dean while she gathered supplies, and Skye wondered if Pamela being 'good at what she does' maybe had a second meaning. Dean was now shaking a finger at Sam, who looked thoroughly amused. Skye couldn't hear what Dean said, but the threat only seemed to make Sam smile wider.

When everything was set up, they all took seats at the small table in the center of the room. "Right. Take each other's hands," Pamela instructed. They all complied before she continued. "And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched." Her hand traveled under the table, disappearing into Dean's lap.

"Whoa. Well, he didn't touch me there." Dean says quickly. Skye and Sam were both trying to stifle their laughter.

"My mistake," said Pamela slyly. She winked at Skye who still hadn't quite contained her amusement at her brother's discomfort. Dean didn't notice as he nervously looked around before pulling up the sleeve on his left arm and revealed the welted red handprint. That seemed to be good enough, for Pamela placed her own hand over it and began. They all closed their eyes, and the psychic began to chant.

"I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." Skye could feel a tingling through her fingers at this point. It could have been due to how hard Sam and Bobby were squeezing her fingers, but she thought it felt like raw energy was trying to enter the room. "I invoke, conjure, and command... Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy."

"Castiel?" Dean asked.

"Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back," Pamela explained. The noise of the static was making Skye's head hurt, and the table began to tremble beneath their hands. Skye wanted to tell her to stop. Something wasn't right.

"I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face." The pain and shaking intensified.

"Maybe we should stop." Skye tried to insist.

Pamela was stubborn. "I almost got it," she answered. "I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!" Flames shot into the air from the candles on the table, and a bright white light burnt from Pamela's eyes showing the pain on her face as she screamed. Skye jumped back from the table, as all of the noise died down. Pamela had slumped from her chair and Bobby caught and lowered her to the ground. "Call 9-1-1!" He yelled. Sam and Skye scrambled for their phones. Sam found his first and dialed the emergency line. He walked out of the room in order to talk to the dispatch. Skye didn't blame him. For Pamela was on the ground, still conscious and screaming.

"I can't see! I can't see! Oh god!" Even from a distance, Skye could tell Pamela's eye sockets were nothing but burnt and bloody holes. What scared her most, though, was what had flashed in her mind right as that was happening. She saw a white light, brighter than the Sun yet soft with the definement of sentience- pure and unadulterated in its intent. Its form was soft and powerful, like a stream of water carving its way through a mountain. The visage gazed upon her. It possessed no eyes, but she knew it saw her - through her - and into her very soul. It terrified Skye more than anything she could have ever dreamt.

Later that day, Sam, Dean, and Skye sat at a local diner. Bobby had gone with Pamela in the ambulance. According to him, she was stable and out of the I.C.U. Skye had been distant since the incident, but neither of her brothers seemed to find that odd, or if they did, they didn't comment. She zoned out of most of their conversation, playing with the piece of apple pie in front of her with a fork.

Sam broke her out of her thoughts. "Skye, back me up here."

She looked up at him. "Huh?" She could tell that Sam was annoyed, but she really didn't want to just agree with anything he said. They tended to have differences of opinion.

"Weren't you listening?" He asked. She shook her head. "Ok," he sighed. "Well, Dean thinks it's a good idea to summon this thing, ya know since we have its name and all. I don't think that's smart. Pam took a peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull!"

She looked between Dean and Sam. Her first instinct was to absolutely put her foot down. No way in Hell would anyone try and contact that creature again… But, Dean needed answers. She could see it in his eyes. This was just something that he could not let go, and if she told him no, he would sneak out and do it anyway. Only then, she wouldn't be there to help him stay safe. "Well," she hesitated. "Do you have a plan B?"

Sam straightened up. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. I followed some demons to town, right?"

"Okay."

"So, we go find them. Someone's gotta know something about something," he reasoned. Not the worst idea, Skye thought. It was worth a try before they summoned something that could melt their eyes out of the skulls.

Before she or Dean could answer, the waitress came back with three cups of coffee. She set everything down, before plopping herself in an empty seat at their table.

"You angling for a tip?" Dean asked, perhaps a bit rudely.

"I'm sorry. Thought you were looking for us." The waitress's eyes flashed black and all three Winchesters straightened with tension. Skye quickly grabbed the salt hidden behind Dean's elbow and clutched it in her hand under the table. The other two tenants in the room had demonic eyes as well. One of them walked over to the door and locked it before standing in front of the exit like a bouncer.

The waitress looked back to Dean. "Dean. To hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck?"

"That's me," said Dean. Skye noticed that his flashed around the room every few seconds. Skye knew that he was not looking for an exit. That had been one of the first lessons from their father. _Always memorize every way in and out of a building the second you walk in. It could save your life one day._ He had drilled that into them for as long as she could remember. They would sit down at a diner, or enter a hotel, and John would pick one of his children to recite the exit points. It wasn't pleasant when they missed one. So, Dean must be looking for a weapon, just as Skye had. Sam's attention was fully focused on the demon, meaning he had the demon-killing knife. Good. All Dean and Skye would have to do was incapacitate the demons long enough for Sam to stab them.

"So you get to just stroll out of the pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?" Asked the waitress.

"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples," Said Dean sarcastically. "I don't know. Wasn't my doing, I don't know who pulled me out."

Obviously, the Demon didn't believe him. "Right, you don't."

"No, I don't," Dean insisted.

"Lying's a sin, you know." Skye could feel the tension radiating off of Sam, heavily. He was sitting on her right. She found the back of his hand under the table and signaled 'W' and 'S', which meant 'wait for my signal'. Sam nodded almost unperceptively out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm not lying. But I'd like to find out, so if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, Flo..." Dean said.

"Mind your tone with me, boy. I'll drag you back to hell myself." The demon snapped. Skye was a little confused why the demon was still talking. If the demons wanted answers, could that mean that it wasn't one of their own who pulled Dean from the pit, or did it mean that they just didn't know who to punish? Either way, one would think that they would just try and skewer Dean to get him back to Hell. Something wasn't fitting right for Skye.

"No, you won't," Skye said. Sam gave her a sideways look.

"No?" The demon asked.

Dean answered for her. He seemed to have a better understanding of the situation than Skye. "No. Because if you were you would have done it already. Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers. Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they want me out. And they're a lot stronger than you. So go ahead. Send me back. But don't come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose."

"I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs." The waitress threatened.

Dean leaned forward, a challenge in his eyes. He threw a right hook at her. She made little reaction. So, he threw another. Still, all she did was glare at him, looking more and more nervous.

"That's what I thought. Let's go, guys."

They stood, and the demon fumed, without standing. Dean pulled a roll of cash out of his pocket and carefully peeled off a ten dollar bill. He dropped it on the table like an insult. "For the pie." He explained.

They all exit quickly and headed back towards the Impala. "Holy crap, that was close," Dean says after they all cross the street.

"We're not just going to leave them in there, are we?" Sam looked at both of his older siblings.

"Well yeah, there's three of them, probably more, and we've only got one knife between us." Dean reasoned.

"I've been killing a lot more than that lately," Sam said.

"I'm sure we could have taken them," Skye defended. "But, they weren't going to attack us. Hell, we could have probably started chanting a damn exorcism and they wouldn't have done shit, but why take the chance if we don't have to?"

"Guys, we've got to take 'em. They are dangerous," Sam argued further.

"They're scared. Okay? Scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We're dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time." Dean told Sam, effectively ending the argument. The look Skye saw in Sam's eyes may have told a different story, though.

The three headed back to the Hotel. Bobby would be back soon as well, and they could all get some rest and regroup in the morning. Skye took one of the beds in the room. Normally, she would be the one to take the couch or the floor, if there wasn't a roll-away, leaving the beds to her ginormous brothers, but Dean was already dozing on the couch with a book open on his lap and she was too exhausted to try and move him. She grabbed a loose blanket off the bed she had claimed and covered Dean with it after removing the book from his lap and setting it next to him. Then, she kicked off her boots and plopped onto the bed, still in her jeans and a black T-shirt. With a pillow pulled onto her head to block out the light, Skye called out a muffled goodnight to Sam.

He reciprocated her goodnight with a slight chuckle and Skye heard the other bed squeak from the addition of Sam's weight to it. A few second later she heard him clicking away on his laptop. Skye tried to sleep, she really did, but she couldn't get what happened at Pamela's house out of her mind. What was that she saw? Her brain didn't even know how to try and comprehend. She knew that it could kill her, and easily. That much was obvious. But, would it? It didn't feel malicious. It was just so grandiose that perhaps killing her would not be all that unlike killing a bug. Although, she had never gone out of her way to kill any bugs. Had it simply hurt Pamela because she was buzzing in its face, like an annoying bee?

The other question was, why would something like that save Dean? Yes, their family spent their lives hunting and saving people from the supernatural, but they weren't the only people to do that, and surely Dean was not the first good man to go to Hell. It just made no _sense_. Why did she see that when no one else had? Why did it save Dean? Why did the demons not know what it was? There were just too many frustrating questions, and she could only answer one of them. Why were the demons scared of it? She could only answer that because she was terrified, too.

After about 45 minutes of her brain turning in circles, the sound of Sam's laptop shutting sounded, and Skye heard the creek of his bed once again. She thought he was just getting up to use the bathroom before she heard the hotel door close very quietly. Skye immediately removed the pillow from her head and sat up in bed. Sam's bed was empty and the bathroom door was cracked open. She checked it, to make sure Sam was not there and cursed under her breath when he wasn't. Skye pulled on her boots quickly and stashed a knife in the right one. Then, she quietly slipped out after Sam. Dean was still asleep on the couch.

Skye had gotten to the stairway before she heard the sound of shattering glass from the direction she had just vacated. It wasn't the sound of someone dropping a vase or knocking over a lamp. It sounded like a window shattering, or bulbs exploding, or both. She cursed again and headed back to her room. Dean's scream coerced her feet into a run and she saw Bobby barrel out of the room across the hall. He yelled Dean's name, and Skye was only seconds behind.

"Dean!" she yelled skidding to a stop in the now open doorway. He was on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. Every mirror, window, and lightbulb was broken. Even the TV had not survived. Dean had been holding his head and she and Bobby dropped to the ground beside him when they saw the blood on his hands. It had been coming from his ears. Dean seemed to be in shock. His eyes were wide and face was pale. She shook all the glass of the blanket she had given him earlier and laid it in an L-shape against the couch and on the floor. She helped Dean maneuver to it before telling him to stay, holding up her hand like she was talking to a dog just in case he couldn't hear. She ran to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel and dampened it in the sink. When she returned, Bobby was checking Dean's ears. Some of the color had returned to Dean's face and he nodded to a question asked by Bobby. Skye let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't be hurt that badly if he was answering questions, and he could obviously hear.

"You alright?" Skye asked. She held out the damp cloth to her brother. He took it and nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "We need to go, though. I'll explain on the way."

Skye was fuming when she realized the keys to the Impala weren't where she left them on the coffee table, and even more furious when she realized, sure enough, Sam had taken her car. She took out her phone and dialed while she, Dean and Bobby all piled into his truck. She was in the middle and Dean was wiping the blood from his ears still while he settled into the outside seat.

Sam answered, "Hey."

"Where are you?" Skye demanded.

"I couldn't sleep. Went to get a burger." He said.

"Oh, and taking my car seemed like a good idea?" Her voice was just hovering on the edge of calm. She might not see the car as her only child like Dean did at times, but Sam just taking it was so not cool.

"Uh, I'm sorry," he said. Obviously, he knew he was in trouble. "I didn't want to wake you."

She sighed. "Whatever, just get back here. We—" Dean frantically waved his finger back and forth in front of his throat warning her to kill the sentence. She shot him a confused look but changed what she was going to say. "Uh- we're just going to go out for a beer with Bobby. He just got back."

"All right, well, uh, spill some for me, huh?" Sam said.

"Will do," she said, still a bit mad at him. "See ya in a bit." She hung up the phone and looked at her brother. "Ok, what was that about?" She asked.

Dean wiped some more blood from his ear. "He'd just try to stop us."

"From….?" She waved a hand so he would explain.

"Our plan earlier. We're summoning this thing. It's time we faced it head-on." She and Bobby looked at Dean in surprise.

"You so sure we shouldn't be stopped?" Sky questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Look, we gave Sam a chance at his half-cooked plan, and all that got us was more questions. We can be smart about this." He insisted.

"You can't be serious!" Bobby exclaimed.

"As a heart attack. It's high noon, baby." He said stone-faced.

"Well, we don't know what it is. It could be a demon, it could be anything," Skye said. She thought she hid the fear in her voice well.

"That's why we've got to be ready for anything." He pulled out the demon blade and Skye was a little more at ease. "We've got the big-time magic knife, you've got an arsenal in the trunk..."

"This is a bad idea." Bobby vocalized. Yet, he hadn't turned the truck around yet.

"Yeah, I couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have?" Inquired Dean.

"We could choose life."

"Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me. That much we know, right? I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand." He insisted.

"Dean, we could use Sam on this." Bobby tried to convince him.

"Nah, he's better off where he is," said Dean and Skye couldn't agree more. If they were going to face this thing head on, it was good to know that at least one of her siblings were safe.

They stopped at a 24-hour store and bought a few large bags of salt, and as much black spray paint as they could find. Skye got on her phone and found an abandoned barn close by while they were checking out. They headed over and started setting traps. It took nearly an hour to get everything set up. Dean handled readying the summoning, while she and Bobby gratified the walls and floor with every protection sigil, and trap of which they could think. (Skye copied a few from the internet while Bobby wasn't looking. She was not quite as learned about sigils as he was.)

When all was done, Bobby, who has had the most experience with rituals, did the summoning. Dean and she stood tensed and ready with shotguns behind him. Nothing happened. After about five minutes, they relaxed and sat on the workbenches around the room.

"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean asked Bobby. The older hunter looked at him, offended. "Sorry." He amended and continued playing with the demon-killing knife in his hand, and muttered, "Touchy, touchy, huh?" Dean stabbed the demon knife into the wood next to him and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Guys," Skye said uneasily. She was feeling the same tingling in her fingers like she had at Pamela's. She needn't have said anything, though. The wind had started howling and the coverings on the roof were banging against the wood with an unnatural ferocity. They all had grabbed weapons and jumped to their feet. All eyes were focused on the ceiling.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind," Dean spoke.

Skye shook her head. All of the lightbulbs started exploding and she let out an involuntary exclamation of surprise. The doors swung open. The wooden bar that had been holding the doors closed broke apart like a twig, and the shadow of a man filled the doorway. His arrival was made spectacular with the raining of glass, and explosions of lightbulbs as if even the inanimate objects had to attest the absolute power of the creature walking among them. The hail of electricity continued, as the powerful being walked slowly and purposefully toward Bobby, Skye, and Dean. The three hunters overcame their shock and fired their shotguns straight at the chest of the creature. Each shotgun had different rounds, one salt, one iron, and the other silver, and none made the creature do more than blink his eyes. Dean dropped his gun and leaped for the knife when only a stride separated the two. Bobbly circled around back of the creature and Skye covered the side.

"Who are you?" Dean spoke.

"I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." Said the being in a deep growling voice. Skye shivered at the sound of it.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Dean said before lunging forward and stabbing it directly in the heart with a grunt.

It stayed upright, still staring at Dean, and her brother backed away quickly. The terror was plain in his eyes. Skye moved towards her brother so her right shoulder was in front of his left one. If this creature-being- _thing_ wanted to get to her brother he was going to have to go through her first. Dean didn't seem to notice her new stance. His eyes were wide with horror and confusion as he watched the thing slowly look down at the handle of the blade, still buried deep in its chest. It slowly reached up and pulled the blade straight out before letting it clatter to the floor. The trench coat and business suit it wore were torn, but no fresh blood was sprouting from the wound.

From behind, Bobby raised an iron crowbar above his head to bring down on it. Without looking, the thing raised a hand and caught the weapon in the air. It reversed its stance to face Bobby and placed two fingers on his forehead. Bobby crumbled like a rag doll. Skye had to hold herself back from rushing to help her surrogate uncle. _Protect Dean._ If Bobby was dead, there was nothing to do about it now, but she could still stall this thing long enough to get Dean out of here.

The thing looked past Dean and to Skye and spoke, "We need to talk Dean." Skye looked into its eyes for the first time, and her heart stopped for a beat. Behind the cobalt depths, she could see a hint of the power and immensity of purpose that had terrified her during the séance. She breathed deep, trying to get a hold of herself, but could feel a slight tremble in her legs. The creature's eyes flickered to her briefly before finishing. "Alone."

Skye backed up slightly and she could feel the heat from Dean against her shoulder. The creature did not advance toward her. Dean grabbed her arm and pulled her back so that he was now in a protective stance in front of her. "Like Hell," he snarled.

The creature met Skye's eyes again. "As you wish," it said, before wandering over to where some of their books were piled and leafing through one lazily. Skye nudged Dean slightly and they both rushed to check on Bobby. His chest was rising, and Dean nodded when he felt a strong, even pulse.

"Your friend is alive," the thing said, still looking through the book.

"Who are you?" Dean asked dangerously. Skye had regained her feet and circled to get closer to their stash of weapons.

"Castiel," answered the being. She couldn't help but think that the name fits it perfectly.

" _What_ are you?" Skye clarified. She was a bit surprised that her voice rang strong and clear.

Castiel looked first to Dean then her. "I am an angel of the Lord." His voice was calm and clear- soothing. Her mouth fell open slightly in shock at his words.

Dean stood up slowly, disbelief plain on his face, and Castiel looked back at him. "Get the Hell out of here," Dean said. "There's no such thing." Skye could feel her heart beat hard against her chest. The adrenaline was pumping strong in her veins, either from fear or awe, she couldn't say which.

Castiel started walking towards her brother and Skye was beside him again in an instant, but it stopped more than a yard short, regarding Dean with an intense gaze. "This is your problem, Dean," It spoke. "You have no faith." Lightning flashed _inside_ the barn, startling her and her brother, as a shadow moved on the wall behind the angel. Raven black wings unfurled in the flashes, and Skye let out a heavy breath of air in her disbelief. Dean was breathing heavily beside her.

"Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes," Dean accused. Castiel dropped his head in shame momentarily.

"I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice, but you already knew that" the angel informed.

"You mean the gas station and the motel? That was you talking?" Dean clarified. Castiel nodded in affirmation. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

"That was my mistake," Castiel admitted. "Certain people-special people- can perceive my true visage." His eyes flickered to Skye quickly before continuing. "I thought you would be one of them," he told Dean. "I was wrong."

"True visage?" Skye asked. Her voice was hard and demanding.

"My true form," he clarified, and looked down at his body, running his hands down the tan trench coat. "This is a vessel. It contains my structure so I can interact with the humans who cannot handle my true form." Skye nodded slowly. Castiel seemed to know that she had spied him without a vessel, but wasn't sharing the fact with Dean for some reason. Curious.

"Wait, you're possessing some poor bastard?" Dean asked incredulously.

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this," the angel said, matter-of-factly. Skye somehow doubted that the man knew what he was signing up for, but at least it was better than how demons took bodies. Demons didn't ask permission and they nearly always left the human inside dead.

"Look, pal, I'm not buying what you're selling. So who are you really?" Dean demanded.

Castiel's brow drew together in confusion. "I told you." He sounded like a little kid in his bafflement.

"Right," Dean nodded his head. "And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

Castiel stepped forward. He was an arm's length away and Skye could feel the raw power radiating from him. She held her breath and concentrated on not taking a step back. "Good things do happen, Dean." The angel said.

"Not in my experience." Skye chanced a look at Dean and saw the deep sadness in his gaze as he said these words.

"What's the matter?" Castiel asked softly. He tilted his head to the side. "You don't think you deserve to be saved." He answered his own question. Skye had an odd feeling that he had just plucked the answer from Dean's head.

Skye narrowed her eyes at Castiel and stepped closer, effectively blocking Dean from view. "Enough crap, why'd you do it?" She straightened up to her full height and stared him straight in the eyes. The two were nearly the same height.

He leveled a gaze at her and spoke with a deep gravity. "Because God commanded it." He stepped away from Skye and sought Dean's gaze again. "Because we have work for you." With that statement, Castiel disappeared. Skye and Dean exchanged glances, before rushing over to Bobby once again. Neither had any words, just discordant thoughts, and pounding hearts.

 **A/N**

 **Whew! That was fun to write! I don't know about anyone else out there, but my heart really gets pumping when I write intense scenes. I hope everyone likes it. Please leave me a review.**


	6. Chapter 5: The Great Devastator

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not my property. Happy reading!**

Chapter 5: Hope is the Ultimate Devastator

Sam had called Skye's phone five times before she thought to check it. He was at the hotel, frantic with worry due to the state in which it had been left. Since they hadn't thought to clean the glass…. Well, that was an oversight on their part. Ah, well. She quickly assured Sam that they were all okay, and told him they would catch him up in fifteen when they could talk in person.

The glass had been cleared from all of the surfaces and shaken out the beds by the time Skye and Dean arrived. Bobby had gone straight to his room to finally get some rest. They were all heading back to his house in the morning and were planning to take advantage of the excessively large occult library Bobby had gathered over the years.

Skye and Dean sat on the couch, and Sam perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing them and anxious for an explanation. Skye sighed, not exactly sure how to start. "So," she began. "I was having trouble sleeping, and heard you leave the room." She told Sam and thought she saw his eyes tighten slightly. "I got up to follow, but before I caught up with you I heard this-" she swept her hand through the air, indicating all of the broken glass. "shattering noise, and started heading back to check it out. Then, I heard Dean scream. Me and Bobby found him on the ground bleeding from his ears." Sam's eyes widened in surprise and looked at Dean.

"What could do that?" Sam asked in awe.

"Turns out, Angels can," said Skye. Dean scoffed.

Sam couldn't quite wrap his head around what had just been said. "W-wait, what?" stammered Sam.

"Yeah," breathed Skye. "I couldn't quite believe it at first, either." She said quietly.

"Oh, bull shit," Dean voiced. "I don't know what that thing was, but there ain't no way angels exist." Skye and Sam looked at him-Sam confused, and Skye a bit sadly.

"Dean, you saw it-him- _Castiel._ He wasn't a demon, wasn't a man. He was something more."

"So, that means _angel_? Since when do we just take the monster at its word, huh? If dad were here, he would be tanning your hide for being so _stupid._ " Dean took a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. "Look, I know that you want to believe we have a good guy on our side, but nothing- _nothing-_ that powerful is innocent. Claiming to work for God? Come on! We weren't raised on faith. The only thing that keeps us alive is always being prepared- questioning everything. I'm not about to go on missions for God." Dean stood from the couch angrily and stalked to grab a beer from the mini-fridge. Skye knew that he always needed something to do when he was feeling anxious.

"Dean," Skye said softly, following him. Sam just stayed where he was, trying to piece the information together in his head. "I know you don't think this is the real deal, and I doubt I can convince you… But, maybe," She leaned down into Dean's eyesight. He had been staring angrily at the floor. "Maybe it's time we tried something different."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean asked sarcastically. "Whad' do you have in mind, princess."

Skye ignored the insult. It was just Dean's way. "Being prepared and skeptical was _Dad's_ way, but look where that got us." She held up a finger. "First, Dad died." Another finger. "Sam died." Finger three. "You died." She let her hand drop to her side heavily. "Somehow, you and Sam both came back to me." Skye smiled at him happily. "But what we're doing, how we're living, isn't working. Maybe it's time we tried something different. Ya know? If this Castiel is legit, it could be the break we need. He's powerful. Hell is scared of him, and he obviously wants at least you alive." Skye's fingers had started to tingle again when she spoke that name, and she looked around the room, almost expecting to see the being.

Dean still looked unconvinced. "Look, you can believe what you want, but I'm not putting our lives in the hands of some _thing_ that may or may not be an angel," Dean insisted.

Skye sighed heavily. She was too exhausted to have this fight right now. "Whatever, Dean. Why don't we just get to bed and we can talk about this in the morning?"

"Fine by me." Dean walked away, disappearing into the bathroom.

Skye just walked over to the bed and fell heavily onto it. She toed her boots off and heard Sam crunching over the glass to come join her. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"So, you summoned Castiel when I was away?" He guessed.

Skye propped herself up on her elbows, so she could see Sam's face and nodded. "Yeah, he walked past every sigil and trap from every religion that Bobby and I could think of. Nothing could hurt him- not iron, not salt or silver. We even tried Ruby's knife on him. He didn't even flinch." Sam's eyes widened at this. "Yeah," Skye agreed with his unsaid surprise. "It was frankly terrifying. And then he knocked Bobby out by just touching his forehead." Skye demonstrated by pressing two fingers to Sam's head lightly.

"So what did he want?" Sam asked.

"To talk to Dean," said Skye. She gestured around the room again. "Apparently, all of that was him trying to speak to him without a vessel, and at Pamela's, her eyes burned out because she saw his true face." Skye grimaced.

"A vessel?" Sam inquired. "Like demons take?"

Skye nodded. "Yeah, but apparently, angels need permission. Something to do with free will."

"So, what did he say?"

Skye thought about it for a second. "Well, he was the one who rescued Dean, which we already knew, and he said that they had work for Dean from God."

"Yeah, I bet that went over well." Sam half-smiled. "Did he say what work or when they would need him?"

"Negative," Skye said. "He just dropped that bombshell and-" Skye imitated an explosion with her hand. "Poof! He just disappeared. Bobby woke up right after that, and here we are."

Brows furrowed in thought, Sam considered for a second before asking, "Why didn't you guys tell me what was going on?" He sounded hurt and Skye didn't blame him. She would have been fuming if her siblings had left her behind on something like that.

"You were gone, and we figured at least one of us should try and stay safe."

"That wasn't your decision to make," Sam said darkly.

"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm sorry. Can we just let it go for now? I could really use some sleep." Her voice got a little whiny at the end, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Night, Skye." He stomped away, probably to go try to talk to Dean.

Skye dropped back onto the bed and rolled over to face the wall, pulling the blanket over herself. Her fingers were still tingling when she was finally able to fall into a restless sleep.

Frustration. That was the aptest description of what Skye had felt at that particular moment. The Winchesters and Bobby had arrived back at Singer Salvage the night before last and were hard at work researching through Bobby's books. Or, they were supposed to be researching. Sam and Dean had been arguing constantly. The whole drive back, and anytime they were in the same room together they just couldn't seem to have any self-control. Skye had tried to ignore it at first. Then, she had tried to play mediator. Now, she was just ready to punch them if she didn't get some peace and quiet.

She couldn't say what the book open on her lap had written in it, and she had been staring at the damn thing for ten minutes. _Angels are broken into seven separate classes-_

"Well, then tell me what else it could be." -Sam

"Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel." -Dean

"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it." –Sam again

 _The first, and most powerful class of angel-_

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." –Dean.

 _Is the Seraphim, which serves as the caretaker-_

"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps... and Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!" Sam was getting louder, and Skye took a few deep breaths.

"Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. You and Skye just did, Dean."

"Leave me out of this!" Skye called to them and tried to refocus her eyes on the page.

 _Caretaker to God's throne._

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." –Dean

"Dean, we have a theory." –Sam

 _Seraphim are often associated with—_

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please." -Dean

"You know, instead of fighting, you two could come in here and actually _help!"_ Yelled Skye. Bobby looked up from his book disapprovingly. 'Sorry,' she mouthed at him.

"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we –" Apparently, Sam had decided to ignore Skye's outburst.

"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!" And, so did Dean. She snapped her book shut angrily and went to pour herself a drink. There was just no getting things done with your brothers acting like a couple of idiots in the other room.

"You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby called, as Skye filled her glass. Well, apparently they listened to Bobby just fine. Skye downed half of the glass as Dean and Sam walked in and approached Bobby's desk. They shot her guilty looks due to the glare she was shooting in their direction.

"I got stacks of lore - Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit," Bobby said, tapping the open book in front of him. It depicted a picture of a winged being pulling a body up from under the Earth. Skye noticed that Dean unconsciously touched his left bicep.

"What else?" Dean asked.

"What else, what?" Bobby inquired.

"What else can do it?" Dean clarified.

Bobby looked him straight in the eyes. "Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing."

"Dean, this is good news," Sam chimed in.

"How?" Dean asked.

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?" Sam said hopefully. Skye wanted to agree. She had even argued Sam's side of the argument, back at the motel, but now that they had harder proof, she was worried about what type of celestial being would remain impassive to all the bad in the world for so long.

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean sounded disbelieving.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah," Bobby said.

"I don't know, guys," Dean said. Skye downed the rest of the drink, and poured herself another one, before sitting back down in her armchair.

"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam argued.

"Proof?"

"Yes." Affirmed Sam.

The look on Dean's face was incredulous. "Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it." He stated.

"Why not?" Skye asked. She knew Dean took a lot of blame on himself, but he truly did not belong in Hell. Was it so odd to believe that God would save people who were wrongly condemned?

"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?"

"Dean –" Sam and Skye both started, but Dean cut them off.

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy." He looked sad. Hope was the ultimate devastator.

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs." Sam theorized.

"Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by... God." Dean shook his head.

"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat." Said Sam.

"Dean, maybe it's not who you are, but who you're going to be. I mean, you were… gone, and Sam and I split. We got nowhere, no answers. Since you've come back, we've understood more than we ever have before. Maybe you're just the first raindrop in a thunderstorm, ya know?" She said thoughtfully, then looked at her second empty glass of whiskey. Ok, maybe she drank that a little too quickly.

Dean sighed, giving in. "Fine. What do we know about angels?" he asked.

Bobby picked up a pile of books and placed them in front of Dean with a loud THUNK. Dust swirled through the air, and Skye sneezed loudly. Ugh, she really did hate dust.

"Get readin'," Bobby told him, and Skye smiled a bit. Finally, her brothers were going to start doing some actual work.

She relaxed back into her chair and picked up the book she had been reading, trying to find the passage she left off at.

"You're gonna get me some pie." She heard Dean say. He was looking at Sam.

Sam agreed, and Skye tossed him the keys. She had kept the keys on her since Sam had decided to take the Impala for a joy ride. She wasn't super possessive of the car, but damn it, it just wasn't cool when your ride disappeared mysteriously in the middle of the night. She was still contemplating giving Baby to Dean, but the right time hadn't presented itself. She didn't want it to be sappy and weird. Plus, she should probably get something for Sam. She was glad her youngest brother was back, too, and she didn't want him to feel left out. Not that Sam would ever say anything, but it never felt good when one person got an amazing gift and the other was just ignored. She would have to put more thought into it.

Dean and Skye researched in silence for a few minutes. Bobby had gone to the other room to make a phone call. Skye heard him angrily slam the receiver back in its place. "Everything alright?" Skye called. Over the last couple days, the older hunter had been putting his feelers out in the hunter network in an effort to find some answers on the angel conundrum.

Bobby stalked back into the library, "Peaches and damn sunshine," he answered her sarcastically. Skye just raised an eyebrow at him. "I've been tryin' to reach a friend of mine on this angel thing since it happened, and she hasn't answered. Isn't like her," he explained.

Dean perked up. "Wanna go check it out?" he asked. Skye almost smiled at his eagerness to get back on the road. He always did hate the research part of the job, and preferred a more hands-on approach.

"We better," he said. "It's only a state over."

"I'll go pack," Dean stated and immediately stood. His book lay forgotten on his vacated seat. His footsteps had disappeared up the stairs before Bobby looked at Skye, who hadn't moved, a half smile still plastered on her face.

"You're not comin'," he guessed.

Skye hesitated before answering. The smile had washed off her face. "Nah, you don't need me for this and I could use the quiet." She was ecstatic that her family was back together, there was no question about that, but the months of hunting alone had spoiled her, and she was no longer used to the constant noise and bickering. Her brothers, despite all of their wonderful qualities, could not keep their mouths shut for longer than a couple minutes at a time. Frankly, it could get quite stressful.

Bobby seemed to understand how she felt in his own rough way. "Alright, don't burn the house down, and man the phones while we're gone," he instructed.

"Of course," Skye smiled. That was Bobby's way of telling her to stay safe and in the house. She looked back to the book she had been studying. It was a new one written in Gaelic, she had given up on the previous book out of frustration. She had a pad of paper and translation guide handy for when she needed the help. She knew enough of the language to understand how the grammar and sentence structure worked, plus basic words, but the more complex words and phrases still required the use of a secondary source to translate.

In the background, Skye heard Bobby gathering a couple tombs the shuffling out of the room. Dean returned a few minutes later with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and approached her. "You already packed?" he asked.

"Nah," she answered. "I'm sitting this one out. You, Sam and Bobby have this covered and I can keep lookin' for answers here."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Dean studied her. He was really asking if she had another reason for staying.

"Yeah, I could use some time to myself," she admitted. "You and Sam have been driving me up a wall," she teased him with a wink. Then, her countenance turned serious and she pointed straight at Dean. "You drive my car. I'm still mad at Sam for stealing her."

Dean's face split into a huge grin. "Wouldn't have it any other way," he told her.

"Good." Skye settled back into her seat and continued her perusal of the book, jotting down notes and translations from time to time. The sound of Dean rifling through the refrigerator was drowned out by the low rumble of the Impala.

"Sam's back," Dean called as if all of the occupants of the house couldn't hear the sound. Bobby reappeared from his room with a duffel in hand.

"You got everything you and Sam need?" Bobby asked, and Dean nodded. "Alright, I'm gonna go catch him up. Don't be long." He looked at Skye, "Bye idjit, call if you need anything."

"I will uncle Bobby." She gave him a thumbs up and Bobby disappeared out the door. Skye trotted over to where Dean was standing and gave him a warm hug. "You and Sammy stay safe." She told him.

Dean laughed and pulled back from the hug. "Now, would I be me if I stayed out of trouble?" he asked.

Skye joined in the good humor. "No, I suppose you wouldn't be, but still."

He shot her a grin and a wink. "Yeah, I know. I'll let Sam know you said bye." He walked towards the door.

"Thanks, Dean. I'll see you both tomorrow." Dean walked out the door, and after the sounds of engines disappeared into the day, Skye was once again alone.

The rest of the day passed with her hunched over various books. She made no effort to be tidy like she normally would with Bobby around. Books and papers surrounded her and littered the floor at her feet. She got up once to find food, coffee and use the bathroom, but otherwise just camped out in the quickly darkening library. When she finally received a call from Sam, sometime after dark, the sounding of her ringtone nearly made her jump.

"Hey, Sam," she answered, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. "What did you guys find out?"

Sam sighed over the line. "It wasn't good. She was killed by a ghost, and uh- we can't be sure yet, but this seems bigger than just one attack. We -uh- we think something might be going after hunters." he admitted.

"What?" She asked. "Why do you think that?"

"Long story, but Bobby can't get a hold of most of the hunters in the area, and the ghost that killed Olivia- well- let's just say it's not the way a ghost would normally kill. Just be extra prepared," he told her. Skye was about to answer, but Skye heard the sound of Bobby's voice booming in the background. "Just a second," Sam said to her distractedly. The low rumble of Sam's and Bobby's voices were heard for half a minute before Sam talked to her again. "Skye?"

"Still here."

"Right, well-uh- Bobby said that he built a panic room in the basement and you can go there if you need to."

"Bobby built a panic room?" She asked, impressed. "That's kinda awesome."

Sam gave a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, it is. I gotta go now, but we'll keep you updated. Me and Dean are going to check on a couple more people and Bobby is going on his own to do the same."

"Okay," she said, now wishing that she had gone with. "Don't forget."

"We won't," he answered, and the line clicked. Winchester men really weren't the best for goodbyes. She stared at her phone for a second, before setting it down and weaseling her way around the mess she had made on the floor. One loaded shotgun, and circle of salt later, Skye settled back into her spot. Though it had only been a few minutes, she glanced at her phone to make sure there were no missed calls. Of course, there weren't. This was already shaping up to be a terribly long night.

She must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing Skye knew the sound of her ringtone was prying her eyes open. She tried to roll a kink out of her neck as she grouped blearily for where her phone that had been buried with research. It was Dean calling. "Hello," she said with a voice rough from sleep.

"Hey, we're about fifteen minutes out," Dean said. "Something weird is happening. All the hunters we visited- dead, and Henriksen's ghost attacked Sam in the motel."

"Huh?" She asked in alarm. Her brain still wasn't fully awake, and she wanted to be sure that she had heard Dean correctly,

"Henriksen, the FBI guy that got blown up after saving our asses, his ghost showed up and attacked Sam while he was in the bathroom."

"Is he okay?" She asked in alarm.

"Fine, but we're almost there. Bobby was at least ten minutes ahead of us so he should be about to pull up. You two go down to the panic room and we'll meet you there."

"I'm on it," said Skye. "See you soon." Skye quickly jumped up and gathered all of the books and paper into a haphazard pile. Her shotgun was still resting against the chair, and she picked it up before going to peek out the window. It was morning now, and Bobby's truck was parked in the drive, but the door was wide open, revealing an empty cab.

"Damn it," she swore and raced for the door, eyes darting erratically around in search of any threat. She threw open the front door. "Bobby!" No answer. "BOBBY!" she called louder. "Shit, shit, shit," she chanted under her breath and raced around the house in search of the hunter. " _Bobby!"_ She yelled again. There was no answer, but a chill crawled up her spine. Her breath fogged the air, and she turned quickly. Ten feet away, and looking directly into her eyes was the ghost of Nancy Fitzgerald. She had been the virginal receptionist who had helped Skye and her brothers escape an army of demons before she had been blown to smithereens by Lilith. It was the same explosion that had killed the F.B.I. agent.

"N-nancy? I'm sorry," Skye stammered. It was all she could think to say. The ghost's brown eyes stared into Skye's green ones, and the ghost walked closer to the hunter. Skye felt her feet carry her backward in an effort to maintain some distance from the apparition. "You're sorry? You're _sorry?!_ Sorry that all of those innocent people died? Sorry, you couldn't save us?" Skye nodded mutely, which seemed to be the wrong move. The rage radiating from the ghost was getting stronger by the second. "You brought them to us!" Nancy shrieked and advanced another threatening step. Skye was halted in her retreat when her calves and back came into contact with one of the junkers around the salvage yard.

"All you bring is death and destruction! Every member of your family has died because you couldn't save them, Skye." The ghosts were no longer yelling, but speaking in an eerie calm voice that scared Skye even more. "You were supposed to protect them, but here you stand, untouched, while everyone around you gets hurt or killed or worse. You're a curse, Skye, and it's time you were wiped out." Skye had had enough. She raised her gun, but Nancy had gotten too close, and the ghost knocked it from her hand. "I died a virgin, you know?" Skye didn't have time to answer, as the ghost's hand shot forward toward her chest.

Barely managing to dodge, Skye dropped below the spirit's arm and rushed for her gun. Something yanked her back and Skye fell heavily to the dirt. Her head banged hard against the ground and her ears started ringing. Through the pain and disorientation, she managed to roll onto her stomach and started crawling quickly towards her gun yet again.

Nancy's form flickered to life in front of Skye, and the former secretary pulled the oldest Winchester up by her hair. "Not getting away that easy." Skye struggled, but the ghost was too strong. It shoved a hand deep into Skye's chest and squeezed her heart. Skye gasped and writhed from the immensity of the crushing pain, but there was no escaping. Black overtook her vision, and she greeted the eternal night.

 **A/N I hope you liked the newest installment. I do have a flushed out storyline in place, but if there is anything specific someone wants to see I'd be glad to take suggestions! Please leave a review. I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts. Thank you to all of the people who have already reviewed, followed, or favorited! You guys make my day.**


	7. Chapter 6: Monsters Beget Heroes

**Disclaimer: To quote Pheobe from** **Friends:** " **Not mine. Not mine. Not mine."**

 **A/N Thanks to my new reviewers!**

Chapter 6: Monsters Beget Heroes

Skye woke, groaning and in pain. There was a heavy weight on her shoulder, pushing back and forth. A sound was near her head as well. It was deep and insistent. She wanted to tell it to go away. She was sleeping. Then, the previous events came rushing back into her mind, and Skye shot up, nearly headbutting Dean, who had been shaking her shoulder and trying to wake her out of unconsciousness. "Woah, easy there," he said. He helped her get sat up comfortably.

"What happened?" She asked blearily.

"I was hoping you would be able to tell me that," said Dean. "We go back and both you and Bobby were AWOL. We searched the house before coming out here and finding you unconscious. Sam's still looking for Bobby. Do you know where he is?"

"Oh my God, Bobby!" Skye remembered, scrambling to her feet. She started searching the area. Dean followed behind, knowing that she was going to explain while they looked. "I was coming out here to look for him. After you got off the phone with me, I looked out the window and saw Bobby's truck here, but no Bobby. I came back here to search, but I got attacked by the ghost of Nancy." Skye shuddered and looked underneath the car nearest her. "She like, stuck her hand inside of me and squeezed my heart. I guess I blacked out," she admitted sheepishly.

Dean, who had been peering in a car window, looked at Skye, surprised. "Wait, you didn't fight it off?" Skye shook her head. "Where did the ghost disappear to then?"

"I- don't know. Maybe she thought she killed me," Skye guessed without much real confidence.

"Maybe." Dean's lips pulled down in a contemplative frown.

"DEAN!" Sam called urgently across the yard.

Dean and Skye ran toward the sound of his voice. He was deep into the scrap yard, and Skye let out a breath of relief when she heard Bobby's voice. Both Bobby and Sam were breathing heavily, and she could see some blood on Bobby's head, but no imminent threat was in sight. "Everyone alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," Sam answered for both him and Bobby. "You?"

"Peachy," Skye said. "Come on, let's get back to the house before we have any more visitors."

The panic room was just as awesome as Skye thought it would be. Fully stocked with weapons, food, and even books, She thought that maybe after adding a plant or two, she could easily just claim this as the room she had always wanted. She told Bobby as much and he laughed.

"Yeah, well, till we figure this thing out, this is gonna be all our bedrooms. So get crackin'." Neither Skye or her brothers needed to be told twice as they settled into their research. Sam and Dean had noticed a brand on the apparitions that attacked them. Dean, apparently, had been attacked when looking for Skye and Bobby in the house.

The brand depicted four people holding hands in a circle. That was the only clue they had as to what was happening, aside from the unnatural anger and control these particular ghosts seemed to possess. Even the angriest ghosts the Winchesters had come across, seemed to be less corporeal than the ones that had attacked them today. Plus, there was the fact that all of the ghosts were of people they had failed to save.

All in all, Skye was settling in for a very long day. If only Bobby had thought to add a percolator to the supplies in the room. She would kill for a cup of coffee. At the very least, it would kill the headache she was getting from Sam and Dean arguing about religion again. But, it didn't actually take Bobby long to locate the symbol.

"Found it," he announced.

"What?" Sam inquired.

"The symbol," Skye told him.

"Yeah?" Sam looked hopefully at Bobby.

"Mark of the Witness," Bobby informed them.

"Witness?" Sam and Skye asked at the same time. "To what?" finished Sam.

"The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts - they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them... on purpose." the tone of his voice was foreboding, and Skye had a very bad feeling about where this was headed.

"Who?" Asked Sam. Who indeed…

"Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called "the rising of the witnesses." It figures into an ancient prophecy." Skye looked at the book Bobby had been reading and groaned.

"Wait, wait. What - what book is that prophecy from?" Dean asked. Skye could tell he was a bit alarmed. Since when did hunting turn into messes like this- evil agendas, and angels from God? It would be nice if they could just go out and hunt a nest of vampires, or gank a ghoul. Well, maybe nice wasn't the right word, but it would be simpler at least.

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short - Revelations. This is a sign, kids." Bobby confirmed Skye's fears.

"A sign of what?" Sam and Dean asked together.

"The apocalypse." It was going to be a very long day indeed.

"Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?" Dean asked.

"That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a - a mile marker." Bobby said carefully.

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam asked.

"Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience. Bunny Ranch." Dean listed and Skye rolled her eyes.

"First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?" Bobby suggested.

"What do you have in mind?" Asked Skye.

"It's a spell," Bobby said and indicated a paper in front of him. "to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."

"Should. Great." Sam said dryly, echoing Skye's thoughts. She could still feel the tension from where Nancy's ghost had tried to kill her, and couldn't say that she wanted a repeat of the incident. Should was not a word that inspired a lot of confidence in her, but working in absolutes was a luxury for a hunter. Half of the job was just taking a gamble and going with your gut. Bobby was a wonderful hunter, and if his gut said this should work, then that would be good enough for Skye.

"If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house." That, made Skye feel a bit better. While translation wasn't her strong suit, she could still do it fairly well, but the older hunter was an adept translator.

In a rare show of hopefulness, Dean asked if there was any chance all they needed was in this room, but Bobby informed them that it needed to be cast over an open fire. Sam surmised that the fireplace in the library fit the bill.

"That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Dean said as they were preparing to leave. Skye had to agree but didn't voice her discomfort as they picked up guns and rounds. The four crowded around the door. Skye made the decision to cover the back since Bobby was taking the lead. That way, she made sure Sam and Dean were as safe as they could be- sandwiched in the middle.

Bobby turned to address the three Winchesters before he opened the door. "Cover each other. And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Ready?" They all nodded and Bobby took a breath before pushing the heavy door open and quickly making for the stairs. A ghost was sitting on them.

Skye recognized the crazy man who had seen a shifter a couple years ago, and thought it was a robot… or alien maybe. She couldn't remember. Not that it mattered. The poor guy was so sure of the conspiracy, and it had gotten him killed in the end. Skye knew she could have changed the outcome if they had just told him the truth, but telling someone who was so vocal about their beliefs about the life of the hunter and all of the monsters loose in the world was usually not a good idea. That kind of thing got you killed or sent to a mental institution. As much as Skye hated to admit it, Ronald's personality almost made the method of his death almost inevitable, but perhaps, if they had told him, his death wouldn't have been so soon.

"Hey, Dean. You remember me?" Ronald asked.

"Ronald, huh? With the laser eyes? I wish I could say it's good to see you." Said Dean.

"I am dead because of you. You were supposed to help me!" Ronald raged, and Bobby shot him.

"If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk." Skye swore she could have heard the 'idjit' echoing in Bobby's head. Dean looked slightly embarrassed, but Bobby had already turned to quickly ascend the stairs. Skye walked up to them sideways so she could keep an eye out behind the group. No other apparitions stopped them on the way to the library and Dean quickly grabbed the salt Skye had gotten out earlier, and poured a circle around them. Sam had started a fire, and Bobby was already hard at work mixing together the components for the spell. Skye kept her shotgun poised, ready for any threats. Dean and Sam joined her as a lookout but Bobby quickly sent them both away for ingredients.

Two girls appeared outside of the circle and spoke Bobby's name. Skye shot at them both quickly before reloading. Skye heard the noise of chalk scraping but didn't look behind her to see what Bobby was doing. The girls had reappeared again, but Skye was able to step outside of the circle and shoot them from the side. She hit both with one shell and quickly stepped back inside the circle. She heard the kitchen door slam.

"Dean?" She called out alarmed.

He didn't answer for a second and she almost left the circle, but he answered. "I'm alright, Skye. Keep covering Bobby!" She nearly went to help anyway, but if they didn't get this spell done none of them would survive. Dean would call if it got to be too much for him.

Half a minute later she heard Sam rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen. There was a gunshot, but Skye had to take a shot of her own as Meg appeared outside the circle. She disappeared in a puff of black, and Sam and Dean rushed into the room, looking a bit ragged but otherwise unharmed.

Ronald appeared in front of Dean and they start trading words again. Skye shot the red-head.

"In the circle!" she ordered her brothers. They rushed into the protective barrier, but the witnesses were appearing faster than they can shoot. Skye loaded her last two shells and dived for a fire iron. She would save the bullets, just in case.

Bobby had started chanting latin and it was as if the weather was trying to fight the spell. The wind kicked open the windows and charged around the room. It rushed at the salt line and broke it. Dean's gun was knocked from his hand and Skye swung the iron at Hendriksen. She shoved her gun at Dean, and barreled at the other ghosts, swinging the fire iron like a baseball bat.

She saw Sam get disarmed and knocked against the wall. "Sam!"

"Cover Bobby!" he yelled, always the realist. She looked back at Bobby, just distracted long enough for the ghost of Ronald to get the better of her. The fire poker was knocked from her grip and the ghost stuck its hand in her chest. For the second time that day, the wind was knocked out of Skye, and she struggled not to scream in agony. Dean fired the last shell and the pressure let up. Skye crumbled to the ground, but quickly scrambled to her feet again and saw that Sam was pinned to the wall by a desk, the ghosts of two little girls sat on it. Bobby had finished up the mixture, but before he can put it on the fire, the ghost of Meg grasped his heart through his chest.

Skye ran for a weapon, but Bobby just yelled for Dean and tossed him the mixture. Dean tossed it on the fire, and all of the ghosts disappeared in a puff. They were once again safe. The only sound in the room was the heavy breathing of relief and exertion from the hunters. They did it. Somehow they did it. Skye looked around the room to assess the damage. The furniture was haphazard and some books had been knocked from their places. All three of the men were a little ruffled and bruised, but nothing that a hot shower couldn't relax away.

They talked long enough to make sure no one had any serious injuries, but everyone was just ready to be done with this horrible day. So, Bobby and the Winchesters headed off to bed. Skye and Dean let Sam take the guest room, leaving Skye to take the couch and Dean insisting on the floor. She knew he wanted the floor due to the nightmares that had been plaguing him since returning from Hell. Skye didn't mention it, but she heard him tossing and turning at night to wake sweaty and gasping, just like Sam used to after Jessica died.

They settled in, and Skye listened to the sound of Dean's breathing evening out as he relaxed, for a short time, into sleep. The wind was whistling softly outside and the house groaned in the darkness. She tried to focus on the soft sounds of the night and lure herself into sleep, but her mind could not be persuaded to shut down. Skye couldn't help but feel that she should have died today.

She did not know how long she had been passed out after the fight with Nancy, but something told her that the ghost had not meant to leave her alive. Her whole life, minus the first six years of ignorance, Skye had never even heard of a vengeful spirit leaving their victims alive unless forced. Yet the ghost of Nancy had only reduced her to unconsciousness. There was no one else around, and she had not even been able to fight back. So why had she lived through the encounter? It was disconcerting, to say the least. Skye was glad she was alive, but nothing bothered her more than unanswered questions. She knew that if it had happened to one of her brothers she would have told them to put it out of their mind, and just take the miracle as a win, not that they would have listened to her of course. Still, it would have been the correct advice to give.

Dean groaned softly in his sleep, and Skye frowned into her pillow. He would need to talk about what was bothering him soon, or it was just going to get worse, but Dean was not one to talk about feelings, and if she tried to force it, she would just get her head bit off. Maybe she should ask Bobby about it. The older hunter always surprised her by how much he understood the three of them. He really would have made a good father.

Again, Dean groaned, and Skye heard him turn heavily. His arm hit the couch with a thunk, and she knew he would be waking up soon. There was another heavy exhale and a whimper. She wanted to turn to him, drop her arm over the side of the couch and stroke his hair like how she used to get him to sleep when they were children. She would hum Hey Jude like their mother used to (their mother actually used to sing, but Skye didn't have the voice for that), and lull him back into the world of dreams sweetly. She couldn't, though. Dean had too much pride to take comfort like that. He would just brush his dreams off as stress.

A gasp sounded through the room, and Skye feigned sleep. She heard Dean sit up from his nightmare, and take a second to catch his breath before throwing the blankets off himself and walking towards the kitchen. She rearranged her pillow into a more comfortable position and attempted to shut off her brain once again, but the sound of voices coming from the kitchen startled her. At first, she thought maybe Sam had slipped down the stairs without her knowing, but quickly realized that was not Sam's voice. She ignored the slight tingling in her fingers, and quietly as she could, Skye removed her blankets and slid off the couch. She crept up to the entrance of the kitchen, careful to keep out of sight. Her heart stilled when she realized who was talking to her brother. The gruff voice of Castiel could be heard. It took her a second to get over the shock of having an angel in the house before she heard what he was saying.

"-to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns." He sounded annoyed. Dean tended to have that effect on people.

"Concerns? There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?" Dean was angry. Skye contemplated making her presence known, but decided to listen for a minute longer.

"There's a God," Castiel said simply.

"I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?" Yes, Dean was very, very angry, and perhaps rightfully so, but Skye only knew her little world. Who was she to say that all problems should be solved by a divine being, by God? If God didn't give people the chance to become monsters, then he would never give them the chance to become heroes, and that would be one hell of a boring world.

"The Lord works…" started Castiel, but Dean cut him off.

"If you say "mysterious ways," so help me, I will kick your ass," Skye nearly laughed at that but managed to stifle it before she made any sound. "So, Bobby was right... about the witnesses. This is some kind of a... sign of the apocalypse?" he asked.

"That's why we're here. Big things afoot." The angel sure wasn't one for long explanations. Skye wondered if all angels were all that way.

"Do I want to know what kind of things?" questioned Dean.

"I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals." Castiel informed him.

"Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Seaworld."

"Those seals are being broken by Lilith." Skye's heart dropped heavily. It couldn't be a coincidence that the same demon who had held Dean's Hell contract was the one that was breaking all of the seals. They were missing something important.

"She did the spell. She rose the witnesses." It wasn't a question, but Castiel still answered.

"Mm-hmm. And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead."

"Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us." Dean surmised.

"Lilith has a certain sense of humor." The angel said.

"Well, we put those spirits back to rest." he paused for half a second before asking a question that surprised Skye. "Do you know why the ghost that went after Skye didn't kill her?"

"Yes," Castiel said almost immediately. "I felt her distress and sent the spirit back where it belonged. I was nearly too late. You three need to be more careful." In her surprise, Skye forgot that she had been eavesdropping and peeked her head into the kitchen.

"What?" she asked, dumbstruck. The angel did not seem surprised at her appearance, but Dean looked at her with wide eyes. She ignored the look from her brother and walked up to the angel.

"You saved my life?" Castiel nodded. "Wait, what did you mean by feeling my distress?"

At those words, Castiel's cobalt eyes traveled to the floor. "I felt it-" he hesitated in an effort to pick his words, "prudent to have a connection to the three of you." His eyes met hers again. "I will feel you when you are gravely injured or near death."

Skye did not know how to react to that, but Dean did. "Dude, that's kind of creepy."

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion but didn't ask Dean what he meant. Instead, he just continued with the past topic like Skye had never interrupted. "Think of the seals as locks on a door Lilith is trying to open."

Dean's interest was piqued again, "Okay. Last one opens and…" he trailed off.

"Lucifer walks free." The gravity of Castiel's voice was chilling.

"What?" Skye exclaimed.

At the same time, Dean asked, " Lucifer? But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing."

"Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me. Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?" Skye had to admit that the angel did have a point. In her line of work seeing was believing, and she was believing more and more each day.

"To stop Lucifer." Dean sounded disbelieving.

"That's why we've arrived," Castiel confirmed.

"Well... bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice." Skye looked at her brother angrily. Castiel, weird and other-worldly as he was, had saved both her life and rescued Dean from Hell. How could Dean expect anyone, even if they were an angel, to be everywhere at once?

"Dean," she said in a stern voice. Her brother looked at her, ready to defend himself when Castiel spoke.

"We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week." He paused. Skye wasn't sure but she thought this was Castiel expressing anger and exasperation. "You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." Skye's eyes widened. She could feel the power from this being crackling through the air. In his eyes, the first glimpse she had caught of his true form shined brighter. The tingling in her fingers traveled up her arms, and Castiel disappeared, taking the numbness with him. The room felt strangely empty as Skye turned to look at her brother, but he was already walking away. His fists were balled at his side, and Skye knew that if she had been able to see his face, the cords of muscle in his jaw would be jumping.

Skye sighed and filled a glass of water. There was nothing she could do that would calm Dean just yet so she walked back into the sitting room to wait. As expected, Dean was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone outside to cool off. She laid down and curled up into her blankets, but sleep was a distant wish that was never granted that night. Thoughts bounced around her skull furiously, and when morning came she had hardly moved an inch, but her brain had run a marathon.

 **A/N That chapter gave me a bit of trouble, but I'm pretty happy with what I ended up with. Leave me a review if you got this far. I would really like to know what people think. Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 7: Tenacity of the Human Soul

**A/N: I changed the rating to Mature due to some of the language and topics in this chapter and within future chapters. Continue at your own risk.**

 **Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me.**

Chapter 7: Tenacity of the Human Soul

Pinpricks of white light nestled in a blanket of black. The night stretched across the heavens to tuck into a bed of evergreens and oaks. Skye watched as a shooting star flashed across her vision and disappeared past the horizon. It stained a pale path in her green eyes. She knew she was meant to follow it, but when she tried to move, her limbs would not listen.

Bound to her prison on the chill earth, Skye struggled against the invisible bonds. She found that even her voice was paralysed when the scream of frustration burning her throat could not escape. Logically, she knew there must have been a way to escape, but the stifling of her fight or flight instincts left Skye helpless with fear. She had felt this way before, when Dean had died, and she was pinned to the wall, unable to move and forced to watch as his chest had been torn to shreds. Tears trailed down her face now, like they had then, and Skye wept silently for all the times she had felt helpless. A deep instinct inside of her was whispering that this could be the last time she felt that way. There was no escaping the unknown force holding her captive.

The sky lightened suddenly as if dawn had decided to take only a second to break, and all of the stars washed out of immediate existence. A dense mist clouded the air- scattering the light of the new sun, and Skye's fears calmed. She was filled with a new sense of tranquility, realizing that she no longer had the urge to follow the star. It was here now, with her.

From inside the fog, a form was moving toward her. Her heart started dancing with trepidation. Though her body still could not move, her eyes watched the shadow take shape as it moved closer. She could tell that it was human, in design at least, and her gut said that it meant no harm. Yet, years of conditioning caused the urge to run to course strongly through Skye's veins. She struggled against the bonds so hard that her hands started to go numb from effort. The shape in the fog stopped before Skye could discern any real details about it, besides its knee-length coat swirling in the wind. It faced her silently for minutes. Even if she had been able to, Skye doubted that she would have looked away. Her eyes were magnetized to it, just as it seemed to be drawn to her. After what felt like an eternity, the man finally spoke. "Listen to me. You have to stop it."

Skye's eyes shot open. Her dream was still fresh in her head, and she had known that voice. Castiel. Her eyes zeroed in on him immediately, sitting on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Stop what?" Her brother demanded. Castiel just pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead and her brother vanished.

"Dean!" Skye struggled out of her the tangle of her blankets, nearly face-planting in her haste, and lept for where he had just been. It was useless, but Skye's surprised brain was only able to comprehend that her brother had just been there. She should have been able to reach him.

She landed on the bed hard, still grasping for empty air. A choking sound filled with her fear, frustration, and incomprehension sounded through the room and Skye nearly let herself disintegrate into tears before the second occupant in the room reminded her he was there.

"Your brother is fine," Castiel informed her. He had stood from the bed and was watching her with his head cocked to the side.

Skye rounded on the angel angrily. "What have you done with him?!" The fury had hardened her eyes to emeralds. Castiel did not look scared like most would. There was probably nothing Skye could do that would even hurt him, but damn it she could try.

"He is safe. I sent him back to 1973. There was something that he needed to see." The calm in Castiel's voice did not placate Skye but instead seemed to fuel her fury. Her anger was so immense that the absurdity of a person being sent back in time did not even occur to her.

"You bring him back _right now_ , Castiel, or I swear to god you will regret it," she threatened.

The angel blinked. "You should not use the Lord's name in that way," he informed her.

Skye stood and approached the angel threateningly, leaving only a breath's space between the two of them. "I'll use his name, however, I Goddamn please. Now, are you going to bring him back, or do I have to make you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the murderous intent was clear.

"I will bring him back," Castiel said, and Skye leaned away in satisfaction. "But, not yet. He needs to see something.".

Skye took a deep breath, finally forcing some rationality into her thought process. "See what, exactly?" she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"He cannot change the past." Yup, maybe this angel was a few eggs short of a dozen.

"So, you sent him to the past, so he would learn that he couldn't change the past?" She clarified. Her head was pounding from the war of emotions inside of her.

"Yes."

"You're insane," she informed him. Skye looked around the room, finally realizing that something was missing. "Where's Sam? Did you send him back, too?" Despite her deep breathing, the anger and anxiety were fast returning to Skye.

"No," answered Castiel. "Samuel left on his own."

"Why-" she started, but Castiel cut her off.

"Excuse me," he said and disappeared before she could blink.

"Aaagh!" She shrieked, kicking the nightstand. It did not help her rage, and now her foot was throbbing in pain. "Fucking angel!" she yelled at nothing. Skye rushed to her jeans that were lying on the floor next to the couch on which she had been sleeping.

As predicted, her phone was still in the pocket. She flipped it open and quickly found Sam in her contacts. Heart beating hard against her ribcage, Skye listened as the phone rang through to his voicemail.

"It's Sam, leave a message." Beeep.

"Samuel William Winchester. You call be back right now or I will hunt your ass down and-"

"You won't reach him," Castiel said gruffly from a foot behind Skye. She shrieked and quickly turned to face him.

"Don't do that," she berated him and flipped her phone shut.

"My apologies," Castiel said. For what it was worth, he actually did look sorry.

"It's fine," Skye found herself saying. "Just don't show up behind me next time. Where'd you disappear to? Kidnapping more humans?" She asked aggressively.

Castiel did not seem to notice the insult. "I went to check on Dean," was all he said.

Skye broke eye contact with the angel and walked around him to start picking up the clothes strewn around the room. She still wanted to hit something, but the pounding in her foot reminded her that was a bad idea. Cleaning up the room would keep her busy enough to not commit murder."Oh?" was her short reply. She had given up on getting any useful information from the angel.

"Yes," he answered and Skye fought the urge to turn around and face him. She could feel him following her as she gathered laundry from around the room. It was like she had picked up some uber powerful, socially awkward puppy.

"Look, Castiel, I don't know what you want with Dean- with my family, but you cannot just come into our room in the middle of the night and send people into the past," she told him as she stuffed all of the clothing she had gathered into the empty duffel. Some of them probably weren't dirty, but she didn't care. "I know you're some all-powerful angel who hasn't walked the earth in thousands of years, but some things are just not okay." She zipped up the bag and finally gave into the urge to face him. Just as she thought, he stood only a stride away. His azure eyes were trained directly on her.

"God commanded it," he said. There was a note of finality in his voice that Skye was not sure how to argue with.

"Yeah, well, if God commanded you to jump off a bridge would you?" Real smooth, Skye…..

Castiel's brows drew together in confusion. "Of course," he answered.

Skye let out a long exhale. Had she not have been so frustrated, it probably would have been a laugh. "When are you bringing Dean back, and why do I get the idea that you know where Sam is?"

"I will bring Dean back when he is finished. It should not be much longer," he said. Skye waited for him to answer her second question, but the angel seemed to be finished.

"And Sam?" she prompted.

"Sam is... indisposed. It would be ill-advised of me to say more before Dean has returned."

"Great," she said sarcastically and turned to walk back to the couch on which she had been sleeping.

"He's safe, though? Not in any danger?" Skye asked after settling, but only silence answered. The room was once again empty.

…

Skye was pacing the length of the motel, shooting anxious glances to her cellphone when the tingling returned to her fingertips. It had only been a few minutes since Castiel had disappeared, but anxiety had made it stretch to a lifetime.

"About time," she said. He had appeared in her line of sight this time and Skye knew that it was because of her request.

Castiel made no reply. Something had caught his eye on the floor next to Dean's bed and he stooped over to pick it up. He looked at it with deep concern. "I don't understand. Why is that woman grabbing the other's bosom? Is she performing an exam?"

Skye couldn't help it. She laughed. Castiel held a copy of Busty Asian Beauties that Dean had obviously been trying to hide. He was staring at the cover, like it would suddenly explain itself. Skye laughed so hard that tears started to cloud her eyes and she had to bend over because of a stitch in her side. When she looked up, the angel was now watching her with the same confused expression that he had been giving the magazine. "Oh, man, I needed that," she chuckled. The angel just tilted his head slightly. He really did remind Skye of a lost puppy. She took pity on him. "It's porn, Castiel. Some people use it for when they get…" Skye took a second to choose her words carefully. "Lonely," she finished.

"How do breasts make people feel like they have company?" he asked.

Skye wasn't sure how to explain it in a way that he would understand. "Just trust me on this one," she told him.

He nodded slowly, seriously, and set the magazine on top of Dean's pillow. Skye cleared her throat. "Umm, maybe you should put it back where you found it," she suggested. "Dean won't be too happy when he gets back if he finds that there." Castiel picked it up and carefully placed it back where he had found it in the crack between the bed and nightstand.

"Does Dean not like when people know he gets lonely?" Castiel questioned.

"Most people don't," Skye said seriously.

"Do you get lonely?" Castiel asked her. His eyes were wide with innocence at the inquiry.

She looked at the floor, a bit of heat filling her cheeks. "That's a personal question," she stated. The angel remained silently watching her. Skye sighed, still looking at the floor. "Everyone gets lonely sometimes." She chanced a glance at the angel. His blue eyes were trained on her, but they no longer looked confused. She couldn't name the emotion in them, but it made her look away again quickly.

"I understand. Do you look at women with large breasts as well?"

Skye choked on the air. "No!" she exclaimed. "That's just a Dean thing. Not all of us handle our loneliness with porn." her face must have looked like a tomato at that point.

"You're embarrassed," Castiel observed. Skye just continued looking at the floor.

"Well, yeah. It's not something people typically talk about." Skye didn't know if she was referring to the porn or the or loneliness, but it rang true either way.

"Why not? If everyone gets lonely wouldn't it make sense to discuss it?"

Skye sat on the edge of the bed and picked at a loose thread in a blanket while she contemplated her answer. "It probably would, but well-" She started to explain, but realized she didn't exactly know how. "-I'm not sure, actually. Maybe it's because it makes us feel weak to admit that we need someone else."

For once Castiel actually seemed to understand what she was saying. "Humans are a very weak species. It would make sense that they try to hide their shortcomings. I sometimes wonder how so many of you make it to adulthood." Skye was getting offended as he spoke, but his last few sentence took her aback. "It truly is inspiring- the tenacity of the human soul. No matter how fleeting or fragile your lives may be, you never seem to give up. I understand why you are my father's favorite."

"Wow. Thank you," Skye didn't really know what to say, but perhaps there was more to the lost angel than she had previously thought. He was abrupt, and confusing at the best times, but not a mindless drone as she had thought. What he said had reminded her of when she was a child and had laid in bed at night, wondering at all the darkness in the world, and how they were ever going to fight it all. She had long since lost the faith that she could rid the world of evil, but perhaps she could hold onto the fact that she could fill it with good. A question burned into her, and Skye couldn't help but voicing it. "Why are we protected? My mother always used to say that angels were watching over us, but I never thought one actually was." It still hurt Skye to talk about Mary Winchester. She had been five when her mother had died, but the memories never faded. She wouldn't let them.

"I do not know what makes you so special," he said. "It is a very dangerous position to be in. Heaven and Hell are at war, and you and your brothers are right in the middle." The angel was standing in between the two motel beds. He talked with a deep gravity, as if he was trying to warn Skye of something, but she could not guess what.

"We've faced danger our whole lives. I'd rather know what is happening and fight it than just sit back and wait for fate to take me." She looked him fiercely in the eyes. He looked as if he wanted to cast his gaze away, but it held steady.

"Perhaps that is what makes you special, Skye." The oldest Winchester was surprised by the way he said her name. She couldn't remember him saying it before, and now that he spoke it, it was uttered with a reverence.

She opened her mouth to reply, but words had temporarily left her and she closed her jaw with an audible click.

"Excuse me," Castiel said, looking away. "I believe it is time to retrieve your brother." With the sounds of feathers rustling, Castiel left, and Skye was once again alone.

She checked her phone, knowing that Dean would be back soon and Castiel would tell her what was happening with Sam. There was no missed call, and, as her thumb hovered over the 'SEND' button, Dean and Castiel were suddenly there.

"Dean!" Her brother barely had a half second to orientate himself to his surroundings before she tackled him with a hug. Regardless, he wrapped his own arms around her. "You okay?" she asked once she pulled back from the hug. She could get details later. All she needed now was the knowledge that he was safe and unharmed.

"Yeah," he said distractedly. "You?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Dean nodded to her and they both turned to Castiel.

"I couldn't stop any of it. She still made the deal. She still died in the nursery, didn't she?" Dean asked the angel. Skye's eyes widened in shock. Were they talking about her mother? Did Castiel send him back try and stop her from dying? No, that didn't make sense. She hadn't died until 1983, and Dean had been sent into the decade before that. She was missing something important.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You couldn't have stopped it." the angel said. That's what he had been telling Skye. Dean had been sent back in time to understand that he could not change the past. She and Sam had used to watch Doctor Who together, and the show had always stressed that some things are fixed event in time. They could not be changed. Was that what was going on?

"What?" Asked Dean. Castiel obviously hadn't been as vocal about the moral of the exercise to Dean as he was to her.

"Destiny can't be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination." It was starting to sound like he was talking about prophecy. In Skye's experience though, she had found that prophecy was often self-fulfilling. Only when people acknowledged the fate did it actually seem to happen. She wished she knew what Dean had seen. Was it possible that he caused it by being there?

"Then why'd you send me back?" her brother asked.

"For the truth. Now you know everything we do." What had he learned? Somehow she doubted that Dean was on equal footing with the angels on the knowledge front, but she would need more information in order to tell if they were getting played, and it seemed unwise to interrupt the two men just yet.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked, confused. He seemed almost as lost as Skye was. Castiel really did need to work on his communication skills. The angel looked at the other bed, which hasn't been slept in. Skye and Dean followed his gaze.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked, alarmed.

"We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why – what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up." When did Azazel come into this? What had he done to her brother? Her eyes just jumped from Dean to Castiel, utterly lost.

"Where's Sam?" The danger was clear in Dean's tone.

"425 Waterman." The angel said. Skye grabbed the keys as Dean grabbed his jacket. Castiel stopped them just as they were about to walk out of the room. "You brother is headed down a dangerous road, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will." His azure eyes met Skye's for one last time and he disappeared. Skye cursed as she followed Dean out the door quickly, and slammed it hard behind her. She didn't think she had ever had a more frustrating night, but she had been thinking that a lot lately.

 **A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed! That was mostly original content, so it took a bit longer to update. I really loved writing the parts with just Castiel and Skye interacting. Let me know what you think, and thank you to everyone who followed/favorited and reviewed.**


	9. Chapter 8: A Broken Leg and Heart

**Disclaimer: This show and any other pop culture I may mention do not, have not, and will not ever belong to me.**

Chapter 8: A Broken Leg and a Broken Heart

Instead of the trademark silent and taciturn way that Dean usually dealt with his problems, Skye's brother was oddly talkative on the drive to find Sam. He started by telling her about meeting their much younger father in a 70's diner (for some reason, it seemed to escape Dean's notice that all diners then were 70's). John was fresh out of the Marine's and working as a mechanic. Turns out, Dean was the one who convinced him to buy the Impala. Skye didn't try to cover her surprise.

"Yeah, I know," Said Dean. "He was gonna buy this '64 VW van. Can you imagine? We'd be driving around like damn Scooby Doo characters." Skye laughed.

"You would look good in an ascot," she teased. "And Sam definitely has that tall shaggy thing going on. Especially when he was a teenager. You could blow him over with a hair dryer!" She chuckled to herself, eyes still on the road. Dean joined in her laughter, but it was half-hearted at best. "So, what happened next?" She asked after a second.

"Well," Dean's eyes darted quickly to her face then away to stare out the window. "Then, I met mom. She saw that I was following her and dad, and attacked me. Nearly got the better of me, too."

Skye's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "How is that possible Dean? You've been taught hand-to-hand since before you were ten. _I_ can't even get the better of you sometimes."

"That's the thing. Apparently, mom was raised into it too." Skye looked away from the road to try and see if she was understanding Dean correctly. He met her gaze. "Mom was a hunter Skye, and apparently so were her parents."

Skye's jaw slackened with surprise, and she looked back to the road quickly. "Mom? You're telling me mom was a hunter?" She would never say that she mistrusted Dean, but their mother being a hunter just seemed so off-the-wall that she was wondering if maybe he had just misinterpreted the situation.

"Yeah. Heard it from her own lips. She wanted out, though. She hated it-wanted to marry dad and run away," he said softly.

"Well- that's- guess she got her wish," Skye finally formed a sentence.

Dean nodded in her peripherals and she chanced a glance at him. He had a far-off look in his eyes as if there was something poignant that he wasn't telling her. Skye had a policy of not prying when her brothers obviously wanted to be left alone, but she always gave them the option that they could talk to her. It was very frustrating sometimes, trying to find the line between big sister and parent. She could tell Dean struggled with it too. The two of them were only a year apart in age, and both had to grow up much faster than they should have. They were able to baby Sam to an extent, but Dean was only able to get any real care from Skye. She didn't want to push too hard and have Dean pull away from her.

"She didn't really get her wish," Dean said. "They were hunting the yellow-eyed demon when I got there. It killed out grandma and grandpa- Samuel and Deana," Dean smiled a bit to himself at the names but instantly sobered up. "Then it tracked down mom and killed dad, too." Dean took a shuddering breath. "Mom made a deal with Azazel, Skye. That's why he came back, ten years later and-" Dean cut off. Skye was sure he had been about to say something important but had stopped himself.

"And?" she prompted.

"Killed mom," he said gravely.

Skye's hand tightened on the wheel. Her knuckles were white from tension. "Why didn't it just kill her then?" she asked quietly. "Why wait ten years? And Cas said this had something to do with what Azazel did to Sam, what did he mean?"

Dean didn't answer right away. "Turn here," he told her, then cleared his throat to begin answering her questions. "Yellow-eyes didn't kill mom because he wanted to do something to Sam."

"Do what?" she inquired anxiously.

"You remember all of those psychic kids?" Skye nodded. It wasn't something that she was going to forget anytime soon. That group of people was the reason that Sam had died, and then later Dean. "Well, Azazel did the same thing to all of them when they were six months old. He bled- demon blood into their mouths." Skye nearly got whiplash from turning her head so fast to look at Dean.

"Demon blood?" She asked disbelievingly.

"That's what he said. I don't know why." Dean shrugged. They pulled up to the address Cas had given them, and Skye quickly cut the engine and lights so they wouldn't be noticed.

"Okay..." she said slowly. "I guess we just have to go in there and figure out what Sam has been doing. I mean, it's Sam. he's the boy that wouldn't step on a spider growing up. I can't believe that there's anything-" Skye stopped. She didn't know how she was going to finish that sentence, but it seemed wise not to. Dean seemed to understand and nodded abruptly.

"Whatever it is, we got this," he said. "Come on, let's get going."

They both exited the car, and after quickly grabbing a few weapons from the trunk they snuck up to the building, keeping to the shadows. The windows were cross-hatched wire, not meant to be opened but easy to see through. Skye didn't like what she was seeing.

A man sat in the middle of the room tied to a chair and facing them. His face was sweaty, but he seemed unfazed by his current position. He was talking to Sam, who had his back to the window. Skye could hear everything, and she wished she hadn't. "Tell me about all those months without your brother. About all those things that you and this demon bitch do in the dark. Tell me, hero." Sneered the man. His attention was on Sam, whose shoulders were rising and falling fast due to his heavy breathing. Instead of answering the man, Sam just outstretched his right arm toward him. Skye didn't want to see what was about to happen, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. The man started coughing- choking- on the black smoke spilling from his open mouth. This was not good. Unless Skye missed her guess, Sam was exorcizing the Demon _with his mind_.

She sucked in a shaky breath and could feel the tension radiating from Dean beside her. How could she have let this happen? Even at his worst, their father could never have missed something so monumentally and entirely unhuman to go unnoticed, and John was absent a lot- both through physical absence and mental inebriation.

Skye was frozen to the spot- crushed with guilt and horror in the face of what Sam had done- what he had become. She watched with wide eyes as Sam walked forward and placed two fingers on the man's neck, no doubt checking for a pulse. She did nothing as the woman, who had up until now been silent, chuckled deeply.

"How'd that feel?" she asked.

"Good. No more headaches." Her brother actually had the audacity to sound happy of all things.

"None? That's good." Skye's heart started pounding loudly in her ears at the satisfaction in the woman's voice. That bitch had done this to her brother. She had made him use this horrible demon power. She had twisted his mind to make him think that this was somehow okay. Nothing about this was okay. _Nothing._ The lies and deceit were crushing Skye. She was having trouble seeing through the tears of anger, betrayal, and disappointment. Why had Sam turned to this woman? Skye had been there the whole time. Even when Dean was dead, she would have looked out for Sam, helped him with anything he needed, but he had left Skye, alone and feeling like a failure, to start shacking up with some demon and using his unnatural powers. _Nothing about this was okay._

At some point, the man had roused and Sam spoke to him in a reassuring way. "Hey, hey. I got you. It's alright." He helped the man stand and was supporting his journey towards the door when it swung open. Dean stood in the frame. On his face, he wore a mask of fury and resignment. Skye glanced to her right, confused as to why she hadn't noticed him leave.

"So... Anything you wanna tell me, Sam?" At those words, Skye finally willed herself to move. She quickly scrubbed the unshed tears from her eyes and rushed around the building toward the now open door.

Dean was advancing slowly when she skidded to a stop. Sad had wide innocent eyes. It was the same face that he had worn at seven when he had gotten caught trying to sneak a kitten into their motel room. Skye didn't trust her voice just yet, but Dean seemed to have the talking covered.

"Hold on, okay? Just let me-" Sam started, but Dean cut him short.

"You gonna say, "let me explain"?" He walked a few steps closer, and Skye flanked him. "You're gonna explain this? How about this? Why don't you start with who she is, and what the hell is she doing here?" Sam didn't seem to know what to say and his breathing was picking up in pace due to anxiety. He looked lost.

The woman broke the tense silence. "It's good to see you again, Dean, Skye." She had a small smile on her lips that Skye was itching to smack off.

"Ruby?" Dean asked in disbelief. Skye's eyes hadn't left the woman. She knew her face. That was the woman from the hotel. She had been in the room that day, when Dean had returned from Hell- underwear girl. Ruby? That was Ruby? The demon who had said she could save Dean and failed? The same demon who had tried to sacrifice a virgin to save their own skins? Nuh-uh. This was not happening.

"Is this Ruby?" Dean asked again, but Skye didn't wait for an answer. She already knew the truth from the look of satisfaction in the demon's eyes. She rushed forward, fueled by the inferno of her blood. She did not care that she had no knife, no way of killing the woman. She just wanted to see the bitch bleed. With a force borne of momentum and pure hatred, she punched the demon spawn squarely in the face. A satisfying crunch was heard and Ruby's face was already bruising around the eye. Dean was only half a second behind, and together they forced Ruby against the wall. Dean pulled the knife out, ready to strike when Sam intervened. He grabbed Dean's hand to stop the strike.

"Don't!" Skye could hear the two of them struggling, but all of her concentration was focused on keeping Ruby from escaping her hold. With her superior demon strength, Ruby broke out of Skye's grasp and backhanded her across the face. The tang of coppery blood filled her mouth.

"You fuckin' bitch!" Skye raged. Flecks of red peppered the white of Ruby's face from the blood in Skye's mouth. The demon had a cocky look on her face as she dodged Skye's next punch. Ruby used her leg to kick Skye's own with horrific force. Skye cried out when she heard a crunch and she fell to the floor in agony. Ruby stepped over her, aiming a kick at her exposed ribs as she did. Skye growled in rage and tied to grab the demon's ankle, but when she moved her leg protested by sending a debilitating shot of pain to her brain.

"Dean!" she yelled, trying to alert her brother of the approaching threat. Dean had Sam pinned to the wall. Sam had somehow gotten the demon blade and the two were wrestling over it.

Dean looked back just in time for Ruby to pull him off Sam and trap him against the opposite wall.

"Ruby! Stop it!" Sam yelled.

Skye had managed to drag herself to a sitting position but wasn't able to stand. Her left leg was throbbing, bent oddly just below the knee. She let out a breath of relief when Ruby released Dean, but it quickly turned into a hiss of pain.

Dean looked at Ruby and then Sam before he finally spotted Skye sitting painfully on the ground. His face hardened father. "Well, aren't you just an obedient little bitch." He said to Ruby. There was no satisfaction in his expression, only contempt. The two faced each other for a moment before Sam spoke.

"Ruby," he chided. She finally turned to look at Sam. "Ruby he's hurt." Sam said, talking about the man they had exercised earlier. "Go."

Skye nearly lost it then. Ruby had just broken her leg, but here Sam was telling the whore to go take a civilian- _alone-_ to the hospital. She closed her eyes, praying for patience. There was no way she could win a fight now, and she was honestly terrified that if she tried to start one Sam would choose the demon over her.

Dean, apparently, held no such reservations. Very obviously, he wanted Ruby dead now. "Where the hell are you going?"

"The ER… unless you want to go another round first." Ruby looked at Dean, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. His eyes looked at Skye, asking if he should let her go. She nodded slowly. She didn't want to see Dean get hurt, too. Her brother seemed to contemplate if he should listen or not but restrained himself as Ruby and the man walked out.

The second the door shut, he rushed over to Skye. Anger was still leaking from his every pore, but he pushed it down to check her over, Sam finally noticed her broken leg and fell beside her in an instant. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Skye!" He reached out to brace her as Dean used his knife to cut her left pant leg to just above the knee.

"Don't you dare fucking touch me right now, Samuel!" she snapped in pain and annoyance. He withdrew quickly, as if struck.

"I didn't- I don't-" he stammered.

"We gotta get you somewhere where I can stabilize this." Dean talked over Sam. Normally they would just fix any injuries this serious on sight, but Dean and Skye both knew that they had to get away from this place, away from Sam.

"Dean-" Again, Dean just ignored Sam.

"Do you want me to help you stand, or carry you?"

"Skye-" Sam tried to talk to his sister in desperation. She chose to use Dean's method of just pretending that Sam did not exist. The pain was agonizing, and getting worse every second.

"I don't think I can stand," she admitted. Dean nodded and scooped her up as carefully as he could. It still jarred, but Skye was ready for it and just gritted her teeth through the pain.

"Guys!" Sam yelled one last desperate time. Skye glanced back at him just before the door swung shut. Sam was still on his knees, shoulders slumped forward in defeat. His eyes were filled with pain and remorse. They pleaded with her to answer him. Skye cursed herself for the pang of empathy she felt at the sight of his misery, but she did not answer his pleas. After the door clicked shut, Sam did not follow. He knew he would not be welcome.

Dean hurried them to the parked car and laid her across the back seat gently. He grabbed a couple old towels from the floor and used them to keep her leg as stable as possible. "Is that alright?" he asked.

"Yeah." Skye took a steadying breath and let her eyes close against the pain. "I'm going to hunt down that bitch and rip her lungs out through her nose," Skye promised Dean.

"Get in line," he muttered darkly. Then added in a softer tone, "I need the keys, Skye."

"Right," she said with a deep breath, not looking forward to having to move, no matter how small a motion it was. She dug into her jeans pocket and fished out the keychain. Dean leaned forward to grab them so she wouldn't have to move more than necessary.

After he got into the driver's seat and started to drive, she spoke. "I don't know what to do, Dean," she whispered.

"Me neither," he admitted. "Damn it, Sammy! Why'd you have to go and do this?" Skye didn't know how to answer, so remained silent. She groaned when a bump in the road rattled her position.

"Sorry," Dean apologized. She heard him rustling through the glove box, and cracked an eye open.

Dean extended a bright orange pill bottle toward her with his free hand. "Here. You should probably take a couple of these before I set your leg. It's not gonna be fun."

She accepted them with a "thanks" and popped two before eagerly sinking back into the seat. "I'm sorry I let this happen, Dean," she spoke.

"Hey, that was not your fault. Sam made his choice. That was not on you," he spoke in a hard voice.

"But, it is on me," Skye said thickly. She hadn't realized she had been crying at that point, but once she did, the tears came hot and thick. "I was supposed to protect him, protect both of you, but all I do is mess things up." She let out a half-choked sob and angrily wiped the tears from her face as if they had offended her. "It was just so _hard_ after you died. I could hardly keep myself together and when Sam left, I- I just couldn't find it in myself to go after him… I wasn't strong like you would have been-" Hiccup. "Or like dad would have wanted me to be." She bit down hard on her bottom lip hard, willing herself out of hysterics. "Sammy needed me, and I let him down, Dean." Her breath was coming fast, and she had given up on trying to stem the flow of tears burning down her face.

She felt the Impala roll to a stop on the side of the road, and she opened her eyes through the tears sticking to her lashes. Dean leaned over the seat towards her. He stretched a hand out to capture one of hers. "Hey, it's okay. No one expects you to be there for everyone all the time. You did the best that you could." He tried to comfort her. Skye just clamped her eyes shut tightly, not willing to meet his eyes. She knew that she could have done better, before and after Dean died, and like the selfish person she was, she hadn't looked after her little brother. Everything that was happening was her fault, no matter what Dean said. Her throat tightened painfully from the onslaught of emotion.

"Listen to me, Skye." he urged, squeezing her hand in solidarity. She forced her eyes open so he would know that she was not ignoring him. His expression was open and encouraging. Only the slight twinkle in his green eyes showed the heartache he was feeling. Her face twisted in pain, trying to let out any more tears at the look. "You are the strongest person I know. You're there for us… all the time. You've taken care of us our whole lives. When we were sick, or hurt you would be there and patient the whole time. You made us eat our vegetables, and encouraged us when dad was being a drill sergeant. You are the first and last person I would trust to have my back on a hunt. Our mistakes- they aren't on you. _This isn't on you._ Sam always had to make his own mistakes. You and me- we'll be there to help him fix it." Her lip trembled at his words, trying so hard to regain composure. She didn't need to put this on Dean, but he was being so patient and supportive that it just made her want to cry harder.

Dean squeezed her hand again. "Okay?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Okay," she whispered. He traced his thumb over the back of her hand in comfort and practically climbed over the seat to kiss her forehead.

"Okay," he repeated and gave her a small encouraging smile. "Now, let's get you back to the room so I can fix you up." he slid back into the driver's seat and pulled back on the highway. Neither spoke for the duration of the drive, and Skye was finally able to suppress her tears. Only her red-rimmed eyes told the story of her pain.

When they reached the motel, Skye was anxious about being moved again. Her lower leg had swollen to twice its normal size and was throbbing painfully. The amphetamines were starting to kick in, and she thanked Dean's foresight for giving them to her when he did.

"Hey, Dean?" she asked him when he was about to open the car door. He paused and looked at her, giving his full attention. "Do you think you can fix it here? I don't think I can handle being moved again just yet."

"Of course," he said. "Most of the supplies are in the trunk. I just gotta grab a few things from the motel room. I'll be right back." Skye nodded and took a few deep, calming breaths to calm her nerves. She had been hurt plenty of times, even broke her arm once. Every time they had just dealt with it as best they could. This time, though, she wasn't able to move, and it made the injury that much worse. With a broken arm, or concussed head she could always get herself to safety, and even keep fighting if the situation demanded it. With where Ruby had injured her, Skye was utterly helpless. She thanked the heavens that they had a pair of crutches in the trunk for emergencies.

Dean came back less than five minutes later. He had two slabs of wood, a grocery bag and a sheet that she assumed he had taken from the motel bed. "Where'd you get the wood?" she asked blearily.

"Dresser," he said shortly. "We won't be getting our deposit back this time around."

"Ah," was all Skye could think to say. She watched as Dean started tearing up the sheets and wrapped them around the wooden slabs to offer some cushion. Their father had taught them how to splint a bone, and she was thankful he had. She was not in the mood to go to the emergency room tonight, and even if she was, there was a chance that they would run into Ruby. So that was completely out of the question.

After Dean secured the sheets on the wood, he set them aside and started unloading the bag. First was the ice. He had filled four of them into small plastic bags, that Skye could only guess came from the ice machine around the corner from their room. Next was a few triangle bandages, and lastly, he pulled out a couple rolls of ace bandages. He set them in order of when he would need them from closest to furthest.

"Alright, I have everything set up. Are you ready?"

Skye took a deep breath. "Yeah, let's do this," she breathed out. She knew it had to be done, but that didn't stop her heart beating like a drum. Dean nodded gravely and felt at the injury as gently as possible. His left hand took her distal pulse. Then moved and grabbed her big toe gently.

"Can you feel that?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Alright, good. You were lucky. She didn't actually break your knee. It's just below and much easier to set. Still gonna hurt like a bitch, though," he told her seriously.

"Yeah, I know. Just do it." That was all Dean needed to hear. She felt a horrible pull, and her leg shifted.

"Aaugh!" Skye tried to hold the scream, but couldn't stop herself. Dean had already placed the wood on either side of the leg and was using the triangle bandages to secure it.

"Almost done," he promised. She bit her lip to stop the whimper. She felt Dean pull the last bandage tight then started to cover the whole thing with the wrap. It only took about two minutes, but they were agonizing, and she wished she had taken another of those pain pills. Dean finished by putting the ice on each side of the injury and propping up her leg using the towels. Guess it was a good thing that the Impala had such large seats..."That's it," he said softly. "It should set straight now."

"Thanks, Dean," she tried to say but thought it came out more sounding like a whimper.

"Of course. Do you need water or anything?" he asked. Skye thought that she should probably have some water, but it sounded horrible to think of drinking or eating at all. Her stomach was in knots, and all she wanted was for someone to knock her out so she could sleep through the pain.

"I usually keep a bottle in the front seat," she told him. She heard the front door open, and the sound of something being moved, before it closed again and he was leaning over her, holding a water bottle.

"Here you go. I gotta run inside for a couple minutes. Is there anything else you need first?"

"No, I'm good. Do what you need to do," she said groggily and flung her arm over her eyes in an attempt to block out the world. Dean left, and she was left alone with her thoughts. Her leg was reduced to a persistent throbbing ache, but the pain pills and the ice seemed to be numbing the bulk of the pain. The adrenaline was fading from her body and draining any energy that she previously had. Her eyes drifted closed and she fell into a stressful sleep before Dean had returned.

When she woke next, a bright light was shining in her eyes, making her quickly shut them when they contracted painfully. Every part of her ached. Her neck was stiff from sleeping on the seat, and her back protested at every move. Her leg felt hot and heavy and reminded her of its injury at every slight movement. There was a pillow under her head and a blanket covered her body. Dean must have covered her after she drifted off. She slowly pried her eyes open against the sunlight and propped herself up with a groan. Dean was sleeping across the front seat. She would have told him to go sleep in a proper bed for the night, but he would have ignored her. If there was any possibility that Skye would need him during the night, he would want to be close.

So, not wanting to wake him up, Skye willed herself into a sitting position. Her bladder was being particularly insistent and she looked around to see if he had thought to pull out the crutches last night. He hadn't.

Skye took the towels out from under her leg and gently swung it off the seat using both hands. She slid to the door and opened it as quietly as possible. A quick glance told her that Dean was still asleep and she gently lowered the hurt leg out of the vehicle. She didn't put any weight on it as she used the door and side of the Impala to stand. It sent a shooting pain up to her hip, but she powered through it and half-hopped her way to the trunk.

A glance in the window showed her a purple and yellow bruise across her cheek bone. Her hair was a matted and unkempt dirty-blonde mess, and her eyes were red and puffy from the crying she had done the night before. In short, she looked like hell. She reached the trunk and dug through it, nearly losing her balance when she had to reach for the crutches buried far in the back.

After closing the door as quietly as she could to not wake up her brother, Skye wobbled her way to to the motel door with the help of the crutches. She wasn't expecting to see Sam on his laptop, sitting at the motel desk when she opened the door.

"Skye!" He stood and rushed forward to hold the door open for her. Skye wasn't able to stop him but pointedly avoided his gaze. She clicked her way around him towards the bathroom. "Skye," Sam tried again. "I'm sorry! Please just let me explain."

She turned her head to look at him. "Explain what, Sam?" she wanted to be angry, but just didn't have the energy, so it came out sounding exasperated. "Explain why you're stopping me from using the bathroom?"

"Wha- no. I'm sorry. Use the bathroom, but can we just talk about this when you're done?" His puppy dog eyes were trying their best to convince her to say yes, but Skye wasn't sure that she could think rationally just yet.

"I don't know what I have to say, Sam. You know what you did was wrong, and my absolution of your guilt isn't going to fix anything."

"Please, just five minutes," he begged.

Skye could see the war raging inside of him. "Fine. Five minutes after I use the bathroom. Don't make me regret it," she warned. He nodded quickly and hurried forward to open the bathroom door. It was something that she could have done herself, but she knew that he was beating himself up for what Ruby did to her, and rightfully so. She hobbled in, and he pulled the door closed. He was obviously eager to try and redeem himself.

It was a challenge, to say the least, to try and balance on one leg, and shimmy her pants down without falling over, but she managed it after a minute and her bladder thanked her. A shower and a change of clothes would have been a good idea at that point, but a shower was out of the immediate question, for obvious reasons, and the surprise of Sam being there had made her forget to grab a change of clothes. It would have been nice, though. Showering would have delayed the inevitable conversation with Sam and helped relax some of the tension from her muscles.

She finished her business and struggled with her jeans in reverse. This was already getting old and she had only been injured for a few hours. After washing her hands, and trying to scrub some of the blood and grime from her face, Skye exited the bathroom.

Sam was waiting on the edge of the closest bed. He stood immediately when he saw her and hovered awkwardly, like he wanted to help but was unsure how. Her head was getting light from the exertion of being up too soon, and she was glad the room was tiny. She sat fully on the bed with her legs out straight and back against the headboard.

"Alright, Sam. You have your five minutes." she motioned to him and he started talking immediately. He was still standing looking hopelessly down at her.

"Ruby didn't mean to hurt you," he started defending the demon. "She just thought-"

"No. She did mean to hurt me Sam, and you know it. Whatever bull shit she's been shoveling into your head, she's a demon. She hurts people. It's what they do, and if that's how your gonna start this conversation then we're already done," Skye said simply and started sitting up. It was unbelievable that he begged for this talk to just try getting her to like the demon who had broken her leg the night before. For someone who had gotten into Stanford, Sam sure was thick headed at times.

"No, no. Don't get up, please. I didn't mean it like that," Sam backtracked. He walked between the beds, seeming to consider his next words carefully. He sat heavily on the mattress next to her, feet on the floor, and posture open.

Finally, he spoke, "After Dean died, I was just so angry! He sold his soul for me, Skye, and I just wanted the people who did that to us to pay! Is that so hard to understand?"

It wasn't. Skye had fantasized about revenge daily. She had looked for Lilith on more than one occasion, dreamed of the day that she could finally rip her apart. "It's not about wanting revenge. It's about how you did it! I was there Sam. I was just as angry and hurt and confused and-" Skye stopped to take a deep breath. She directly at him. "I know how you felt Sam. You weren't the only one mourning- blaming yourself for his death, but the difference is I didn't leave you!"

"You wouldn't have understood," he defended. "Using this gift." He looked down at his hands, as if visualizing his power. "I knew you wouldn't approve."

"Damn right I wouldn't have approved! It's not a gift, Sam. It's something dark, and dangerous. I don't know if I can watch you do that to yourself," she said sadly.

"But that's what I'm saying, Skye!" he stood up, and flung his hands in the air, as if it would make his statement more impressive. "You would have tried to stop me. I needed to do this. I'm helping people!"

"You're turning into Anakin Skywalker! Every time you use the power Azazel gave you, I see less of the Sam that I grew up with. You've changed. You're doing things that I never thought possible from you!" Skye grabbed one of the pillows next to her and hugged it close in frustration. She really just wanted to hit something.

"Like what?!" Sam flung his hands up in the air again, his anger had risen to dangerous proportions already and they had only been talking for a minute. "I save people, kill demons! What's so wrong with that?"

"It's wrong when you leave your family to go meet demons in the dark! It's wrong when you lie to us and fight alongside the bitch that did this to me! And then you try and defend her!" Skye gestured wildly to her crudely bandaged leg. "You don't know what this power does to you! How could you not ask for my help? You choose _Ruby_ over me, Sam! All because you didn't want to have a difficult conversation!?" Skye's voice broke a bit from the stress of yelling.

"Oh, come on! You know that's not how it was! You were just going to sit at Bobby's and look at me with Dean's eyes! I couldn't handle it! I was going to go crazy!" Sam screamed at her.

"You've already gone crazy," Skye said curtly. "We're done here." She heaved herself off the bed and steadied herself with the crutches. She couldn't look at Sam right now. He had basically just told her that she had driven him to do what he did. A part of her believed his words. Maybe she wasn't good enough to lead this family. It would probably be best if she just left. She was angry enough to not break down in front of her brother. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had got to her.

Sam let her pass with a heaving chest and anger in his eyes. He spoke just before she reached the door. "You know I'm right. I've made more headway on fighting demons and killing Lilith in the last five months, than we have our whole lives. This is how we win!"

She shook her head sadly, heart clenching on how unlike himself he was behaving. With her hand on the knob, she spoke to the door. "No, Sam. This is how you get yourself killed, or worse. Call me when you come to your senses." With those words, Skye exited the motel room. This time she didn't look back.

Skye got in the back seat of the Impala and closed the door with unnecessary force. It woke Dean from a deep sleep. "Huh? Skye?" he looked widely around and saw her sitting in the back seat, unharmed. His face calmed a bit.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you. The door closed harder than I meant."

"It's fine." Dean's voice was raspy from sleep. He ran a hand down his face. "What time is it?" he asked.

She shrugged, distracted. "I don't know. Sometime after dawn."

"Yeah, thanks for that," he said sarcastically. "Where'd you go?"

"Bathroom." Her reply was curt. She knew she shouldn't be taking her anger out on Dean, but it was difficult to suppress her emotions right then.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he muttered. "Do you need more pain pills? I put them away after you fell asleep."

"Nah," her arms were crossed tightly across her chest.

"Okay..." he said slowly. "What's wrong?"

Her head snapped up to look at him. "Oh you mean besides the obvious?" she gestured to the makeshift cast. Dean raised an eyebrow. Skye let out a heavy breath. "Sam's in there." She jerked a thumb toward the door to their room.

"Ah," Dean said in understanding. He exited the car suddenly. "I'll be back." Skye knew that she should have stopped him, but who was she to keep him from getting his emotions out? Based on the set of his shoulders as he marched to their room, he probably had as much to say to Sam as she had.

Her head fell heavily against the seat and she let out a small scream of frustration. She knew that she was acting like a petulant child, but she was hurt and sore, and damn it she was allowed to be angry when something like this happened! Hunting was out of the question, so Skye couldn't even use her normal route of tension relief to let off some steam. Hell, she couldn't even walk around the block without those stupid the crutches. It was all too much in such a short amount of time.

After a minute, she decided that she needed to get away. Dean could come with her, but she couldn't be around Sam right now. She needed time to cool off.

Flipping her cell phone open, Skye took a deep breath before dialing. It rang twice before a deep male voice answered.

"Well, well, didn't think I would hear from you anytime soon. What do I owe the pleasure?" she could hear the smile in his voice, and it cheered her slightly.

"Hey. You anywhere near Carthage?" she asked without preamble.

"As a matter of fact, I am. Just finished up a case a couple hours away. Why?"

"Do you think you could come pick me up? I'm down a leg at the moment and could really use to get away."

"Anything serious?" the man asked. Skye frowned.

"Does that mean you're coming?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Already on my way, sugar. Text me the address?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course," she said. "See you soon." She flipped her phone closed, already feeling much better than she had a second ago. She didn't see the smile on her face, but Skye would have cursed herself for a fool if she had known what that thirty-second conversation would lead to.

 **A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed that chapter. It was very difficult to write, but I used medical experiance and personal experiance to try and be as acurate as possible. Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed!**


	10. Chapter 9: Plain White Walls

**Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me.**

Chapter 9: Plain White Walls

To Skye's surprise, her two brothers exited the motel together. Between them, they had packed up all of the bags and were carrying them to the Impala. Dean looked angry and saddened, and Sam had a subtle ring of red around his eyes. His face was blank of emotion now, but it was easy to tell his emotions had been raging just before. Skye rolled down her window. and looked directly at Dean so there would be no mistake about to whom she was speaking.

"What's going on?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow. She knew that he understood her real question: 'Why is Sam coming out here, and what happened that has you two looking so upset?' Well, hopefully, he understood that was what she was thinking.

Dean walked up to her open window and leaned over so that his forearms rested on the sill. "Travis called Sam up. He's got a case."

Skye paused a moment before asking, "I take it you're gonna go check it out with him?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah." His eyes flashed to the open trunk where Sam was storing their stuff, probably wondering if Sam could hear them. It was almost certain that he could. "We'll figure out everything else after that."

"Not me. I need some space from all of this," Skye told him.

"You're leaving? Now?" Dean sounded disbelieving.

"Yeah, I can't do this, Dean, and it's not like I would be much help on a hunt anyway." She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but her brother saw right through her.

"Uh-huh. You do realize that you are doing exactly what Sam always does? Him running away is what caused all this mess, and now you are going to do the same thing?" he accused.

" _He_ didn't cause this. _I_ did," she said in a hard voice. "And I wasn't asking your permission. I just need you to drop me off at that diner down the road. I'll wait for my ride there." Her tone booked no-nonsense, but Dean was the master of ignoring warnings.

"Damn it, Skye. Stop it with this blaming yourself shit. You don't get to leave me."

She raised her eyebrows indignantly, "I don't get to?" She pursed her lips together tightly. "Nnnn-mmm.I'm not doing this right now. You're gonna drop me off at the dinner, go do that case, and call me every day to let me know that the two of you are still alive. That's final."

Dean took in a deep shuddering breath to argue, but she locked eyes with him in a challenge, and her brother's jaw snapped shut audibly. "Fine. Do what you want." He picked up the bags from the ground and disappeared behind the car. She rolled up her window, not wanting to hear what, if anything, Dean and Sam were about to say. The trunk shut loudly, making the car bounce slightly.

Sam walked by the window toward the front. His posture was closed off, and he got in the car without saying a word. Dean followed a second later, and they began the drive in silence.

The three of them had fights before. It would be impossible for them not to, considering how close of quarters they shared. They respected each other's personal space and generally backed off when one was getting fed up. Still, fights happened about hunts, chores, and all the other mundane things in life. Those types usually blew over quickly and were often attributed to stress, hunger or lack of sleep.

The more serious fights happened on such occasions that one of them dared to utter the three-lettered curse of "why?" _Why can't I tell this girl what we do? Why can't I get a job, and go to college? Why can't you go a day without drinking? Why didn't you talk to me? Why don't you want to look into that case? Why are you always so bossy?_ In short, this fight was shaping up to be one of their worst. Skye couldn't yet decide if things would have turned out better with their father there or not. He would be furious, but he would have shut the situation down in seconds and killed Ruby on sight. If nothing else could be said about John Winchester, he was a man able to take control of control situations. Then again, none of this would have happened in the first place if John was here. That was his choice, in the end.

Skye examined Sam in the rear-view mirror. He was pensively staring out the passenger side window. She wondered what he and Dean had spoken about, but didn't dare ask. It would most likely just make things worse. Still, she couldn't help but feel that Dean was able to get through to him in a way that she didn't. They had decided to take on a case, and if it had just been left up to Skye, Sam would have never gotten back in the car.

Her eyes traveled to her other brother. Dean was obviously suppressing his aggression. His hands were tight on the wheel and his eyes never flickered from the road. Metallica was blaring at a very high volume, signaling that, if they wanted to talk or not, he was not in the mood for any more conversation this morning.

She was felt guilty for a moment because Dean had been there for her unwaveringly. Unlike Sam, he had never abandoned the family, and she knew that he was feeling betrayed right now. In itself, that was nearly enough to change her mind from leaving, but she just… she needed time to clear her head, and being there, around the problem, was just seeming to make the situation worse at every turn. She'd give it a week. One week of being selfish and taking the time to examine her thoughts and feelings before she went back to them. That shouldn't be too difficult for Dean to understand, but emotions are often irrational. All three of them had abandonment issues.

All too soon, the car pulled up to the diner. There weren't many cars parked in the lot; It was probably just the daily regulars in there right now, drinking their morning coffee and reading the paper. That was a good thing. Skye did not feel like being surrounded by people yet.

Dean parked the car and jumped out as soon he cut the engine. Skye sighed. She should at least try to make some sort of peace before they drove off. She looked at Sam still sitting in the front seat and cleared her throat. "Listen, Sam." He twisted to look wearily at her. "I don't think what you did was right, but I know why you did it. Just, call me if you need me, okay? I expect daily updates."

Sam gave her a half smile. It didn't make his dimples show, but he was at least making an effort to be civil, so who was she to complain? "Okay, Skye. Don't get up to too much trouble without us," he attempted to tease her.

"Pshaw! Me? Trouble? Never!" he smiled a little bigger at her attempt to joke, but it still didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," he said skeptically.

The back door opened suddenly to reveal Dean and Skye was saved from the trouble of trying to answer. "Got your bags. Let's go," Dean said.

Skye nodded and clumsily pulled her crutches and herself out of the car. Dean slammed the door behind her and walked a stride ahead. He was reaching for the glass door to the diner when she stopped him. "Hey, Dean, wait," she called. He looked back impatiently. "You know I'm not leaving _you_ , right?" Her brother just pursed his lips. "I'm not. I just need like a week to clear my head. I'll be back before you have time to miss me." She offered him a smile, which he refused to receive.

"Who's picking you up anyway? Somehow I get the feeling that it's not Bobby, or he'd be callin' to talk sense into all of us," Dean changed the subject as if she had not just been trying to make peace.

"Liam," she said nonchalantly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "The Texan who helped us clear out that vamp's nest a couple years ago?"

"Yup," she popped the 'p'. "He was in the area and I didn't want to inconvenience Bobby again," she admitted.

"You two have a thing?" he asked point blank.

"No!" her face reddened and Dean gave her a skeptical look, obviously not believing her. "I mean… he's nice and all, but he's a hunter. That wouldn't work out too well,"

"Mmmhmm," Dean hummed and went to open the door again. Skye followed, annoyed by the loud clicking of the crutches. The diner had only a handful of patrons. A sign by the front door read: PLEASE SEAT YOURSELVES. Dean led her to a booth in front of a picture window. It looked out to the parking lot, allowing her to observe all of the comings and goings of the establishment. She frowned when she looked out and Sam was talking seriously on his phone. She kept her eyes on him when she lowered herself into the booth. So it was surprising when she looked over and Dean was sitting across from her, studying a menu.

"Staying to eat?" she asked.

"Just getting some take out for the road." He didn't look up at her when he spoke. "Don't worry. You won't have to put up with me much longer."

Skye rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Dean. Act like a child if you want."

He glanced up at her, and then back down to the menu as if to say 'thank you, I will.'

"You know," she started slowly. "There's something I've been thinking about…"

He set his menu down. "Alright, you have my attention."

"Well…" She glanced at the window to where Sam had been. He was off the phone and leaning against the Impala in boredom. "I want you to have the Impala," she finished quickly.

"Come again?"

"I said, I want you to have the Impala," Skye enunciated each word separately. His eyes widened a fraction in disbelief. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and you love that car, Dean. I mean, I love her too," she quickly added. "But, it- I just think it'd mean more if you had her. Dad only gave it to me because I was oldest anyway." she shrugged.

"You're serious?" he asked deeply.

"As Sam's hair care regimen," she joked. It fell flat on Dean.

"You want to give me Baby?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, Dean. Are you in shock?" Skye asked at his wide-eyed look of disbelief. His face had paled slightly and mouth parted unconsciously.

"Hello there! How's everyone doing?" The waitress walked up to their table and announced her presence. Dean snapped his jaw closed but was otherwise still staring at Skye.

"We're fine, thanks," Skye smiled at the brunette.

"Can I get you something to drink?" The waitress, whose name tag read Tammy, asked.

"Yeah. We actually have an order ready to go," Skye said.

"Alright, what'll that be?"

"Two eggs, over easy, rye toast and hash browns with a coffee for here. To go will be two black coffees, a bacon egg, and cheese slammer, and an egg white omelet, white and wheat toast," Skye ordered for her brothers. "Oh, and a slice of apple pie," she added.

"Can I get you anything else?" Tammy asked. Skye shook her head. "Alright, I'll be right back with the coffee." Tammy spared Dean a confused look before turning on her heel and disappearing from sight. As she walked away, Dean finally seemed to shake off his shock, literally.

"I can't take Baby from you, Skye," he said sadly.

"You can and will. It's not like it makes much of a difference anyway. We're always together." Skye winked at him, still trying to lighten the mood. Dean frowned, contemplating her for a few minutes. The waitress had come back and dropped the coffee off before he finally spoke.

"You're sure about this?" he asked seriously.

"Dean, I've never been more sure about anything in my life. The fact that you convinced dad to buy her in the first place just shows how much she really means to you." Skye took a sip of her coffee. It was hot and just what she needed.

Finally convinced, Dean's face broke into a huge open-mouthed grin. "You're the best, you know that?" he asked.

Skye tilted her head in a mock bow. Her cheeks were split by the dimples. "I think I might've heard that somewhere." Dean was now in a glowing mood, Skye didn't want to ruin it, but she also didn't want Dean to leave before she could explain herself to him. "So," she started. "I don't know what kind of conversation you and Sam had, but ours didn't go too well," she admitted.

Her brother sobered up. "Oh?"

"It's why I have to take a little time to myself, Dean," she said in earnest. "Sam begged me for a chance to explain himself, and do you know what he said when he did?"

"Something bitchy no doubt," guessed Dean.

"He started by trying to defend Ruby, and ended by saying that I drove him off after your death," Skye said, not willing to look up. She was playing with the rim of her coffee cup.

"You know, all that proves is that he's driving you off, right?" Dean asked with a raised brow. Skye thought about that for a second. It was true that she was leaving because she didn't know how to deal with Sam right now, but she was also doing it for her. It was too difficult to have perspective on a situation when you were so close to it. Every time she saw Sam she would be remembering what he had said about looking at him with Dean's eyes. For some reason that had hurt her more than anything else, he could have said. If he had yelled and raged and called her a bossy bitch it would have been easier. At least then, she would have known that it was a reaction borne of anger, but the calm certainty with which he had spoken convinced her that he was being honest for perhaps the first time since they had been reunited. _She_ had driven Sam off just by being herself.

Perhaps if she talked to Liam, obviously not telling him all of the sordid details, she would be able to understand how to continue with the situation. She would never stop loving and protecting Sam, but they couldn't do their type of work if there was no trust. Sam hadn't even apologized, which was a warning sign in itself.

"Maybe he is driving me off, but I don't stay away for long. If I haven't found the perspective I need in a week, I'm coming back anyway. I can't imagine the trouble the two of you would get into without me around. Plus, I need to make sure that you are taking care of Baby," she teased. There was no doubt that Dean would take care of the car. He had already been doing it, beside her, for nearly their whole lives.

In pure Dean form, he ignored her attempt to lighten the mood. The atmosphere was only allowed to change when he wanted it to. He was a bit of a control freak at times. Not that she blamed him. She could be a bit domineering as well. Thinking that every decision you made put not only your life on the line, but the life of the ones that you love was a very stressful way to live and strengthened their A-type personalities. "I'm serious, Skye. Whatever's going on with him, this isn't gonna to help."

"I don't know if me rubbing salt in the wound is going to help either. He's a big boy. I can't be responsible for all of his decisions."

"And I can?" questioned Dean. He was starting to sound confrontational again.

She raised her hands up in the air, as if in surrender. "I didn't say that! If you wanted to come with me and leave Sam to handle his own shit, I would completely understand. It's not like it would be the first time that he wanted to get away with us," she said, perhaps a little bitterly.

"That sounds like something dad would say," Dean told her.

"Yeah, well, dad was right sometimes," she muttered. Dean looked at her disbelievingly. While they were growing up, their father had given them orders and expected them to be followed. Skye and Dean, of course, would obey without a second thought (most of the time). Sam, on the other hand, would fight him at every turn. It made for some very tense show-downs. After their father had died, perspective had shifted a little for all of them. Dean was bitter, and Skye thought he secretly wondered if he obeyed John just because it was an easy way not to take charge and responsibility. Sam seemed to have a newfound respect for the man. Skye always thought that Sam and John were the most similar. That would certainly explain why they fought so much. And Skye? Well, Skye knew that there were reasons behind why their dad behaved the way he did sometimes. He might not have gone about it the right way, but he always did have good reasons. She was trying to learn a lesson from John.

If she stayed with Sam, she knew that their personalities would clash, and probably lead to an ultimatum. If that ending could be avoided, it would be by doing something that their dad never seemed to be able to quite grasp- taking some time to consider a problem from a distance. It was worth a try at least. Making Dean understand that was something that was proving more troublesome than she would have thought, though.

"Look," Skye tried again. "Just trust me on this, please. One week away and I'll be stuck so close to your side after that you'll have to go to a dermatologist to get me removed. Okay?"

He let out a long breath and ran his hand down his face. "Fine. But-" He pointed a finger at her. "You don't answer your phone, or you back out of our deal, I will find you."

"Deal," Skye said, a smile in her voice. She groaned and pulled her leg up onto the seat next to her so that she was lounging across the whole booth. The break was throbbing painfully and she was not looking forward to trying to get comfortable in Liam's truck.

"How's that doing anyway?" Dean gestured to her leg and took a sip of coffee.

"The broken leg I've had for less than a day? Just amazing," she said sarcastically.

"Alright, princess." He rolled his eyes. "Sure you don't want me to go grab those pills? Just take a couple of those and you won't have to go with Liam to get away."

"Nah, I'm good. Those things can really mess with my head." Dean grunted in understanding and they sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes, just enjoying their coffee. Skye watched Sam as they sat. He was sitting in the front seat of the Impala on his laptop. His attention seemed to drift every of couple minutes to his phone, but he didn't pick it up again, at least while she was watching.

The waitress came with their food, and Dean stood to leave. Skye gave him a small wave. He studied her for a second and she gave him a slight smile. "Don't worry. I know how to take care of myself, Dean. Call me if you need me or if he gets any worse," she said, nodding her head in Sam's direction. Dean's eyes looked out to study his brother before they flashed back to Skye. He gave her a curt nod.

"I don't like this, but I don't think there's anything I can do is there?" he asked.

She laughed. "No."

"See you in a week shortstop," he said. With the food in his hand, Dean walked out of the diner. She watched as he and Sam exchanged a few words, and then the Impala roared to life and they disappeared onto the road once again.

It was more uncomfortable than she could have guessed: willingly watching her brothers disappear. Her appetite suddenly gone, Skye nibbled a piece of rye toast before pushing away the plate of food and nursing her coffee again. She waited there, watching the comings and goings of the patrons, and the bustle of the cooks and waitresses. At some point, she dozed off with her head against the cool glass.

She dreamt, though what about she could not have said. All that she knew was that she felt much better when a voice woke her from slumber.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Skye started awake. The handsome face of Liam was looming over her. He was holding back laughter at her surely confused and disheveled look.

"Hey, Liam," she mumbled sitting up and stretching out her muscles.

"You look like hell, darlin'. Weren't kidding about being down a leg, I see," he observed.

"Fuck you too," she said in faux grumpiness, her voice was surprisingly not gruff like it normally was just after she woke. Liam laughed. He was always quick for a smile and a joke. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and dropped a couple bills onto the table.

"Come on, let's hit the road darlin'," said Liam. She frowned at him.

"I was going to pay for that," she insisted.

"Well, ya snooze, ya loose." he shrugged. His flashed a smile as he shouldered her bag and held a hand out to steady her as she got to her feet. Skye ignored the hand but was glad he was paying attention when she almost lost her balance standing up. He steadied her, the grin becoming more of a smirk.

"Thanks," she said grudgingly after he released her elbow and led the way toward the door. They passed the waitress on the way out. She gave Skye a sideways look. Skye looked down at her clothes to make sure she hadn't dropped food on herself or something of the sort. There was nothing there, but she did realize that she was still in the cut-off jeans and the rough makeshift cast. She supposed she should have changed in the bathroom before Liam had picked her up. That sounded difficult to do on her own though.

"So where we headed off to?" She asked once they were out the door.

Liam her up and down before answering. "When did you manage to do that?" He nodded at her leg.

She looked away from him and crutched a little faster toward his truck. "Last night. Dean fixed it up for me as good as he could. I may need to stop by a store. I don't think any of my pants will fit over this-" Skye trailed off when she realized that Liam had stopped walking and was staring at her with a mixture of incredulity and pity.

"What?" she snapped hotly.

"Skye… Dean is dead… Are you sure that you're okay?" He seemed unsure of himself, which was odd for Liam. The man was almost pure self-confidence and charm.

Skye sighed heavily. Her bad mood hadn't left with her brothers apparently. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Dean is back." She shrugged like it was no big deal. "You know how it is.. Dead isn't really dead in our line of work." He gave her a disbelieving look. "Fine. I'll prove it if you don't believe me." She hobbled quickly to the truck and leaned her crutches against it. Balancing on one leg, she fished her phone from her pocket.

Liam walked forward calmly and put a hand over hers to stop her from dialing. She could feel his hot breath on her face. Her heart rate increased, but she ignored the uneasiness and met his eyes. They were furrowed in concern. "I'm not crazy," she whispered. "He really is alive."

His golden eyes didn't leave hers, but he slowly slid his hand from off. "Okay, doll. I believe you," Liam said. His voice no louder than hers had been. It sounded sincere, but she thought he was probably just humoring her. "Come on. Let's go get a room and get you all cleaned up. Can't have you going out in public looking like a battered woman." She scoffed but put her phone carefully back into her pocket. She almost lost balance, but Liam grabbed her waist to steady her.

Skye's breath caught at the contact, but she otherwise ignored it, and reached for her crutches like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. When she was steady and supported, Liam opened the passenger door for her. Skye brushed off his helping hand, already tired of feeling like an invalid, and used the door to hoist herself into the vehicle. He chuckled lowly under his breath and loaded everything into the back before jumping in and starting the engine.

…..

The hotel that Liam took her to was nicer than the ones that she and her siblings could usually afford. The beds were actually adorned with comforters and instead of just a mini fridge, there was actually a small area for cooking. Not to mention that the hotel actually had a pool, steam room, and jacuzzi. She loved swimming, but, apparently, that wasn't happening anytime soon due to unfortunate circumstances.

She lounged on one of the beds and flipped through the channels half-heartedly. Liam had gone to get her some pants that would fit over her splint. He'd been gone for nearly two hours already. She hoped that he brought back food. She was starving, having hardly touched her breakfast. Sam and Dean had called to check in. They weren't sure what they were dealing with yet but were on their way to check it out. She hoped that they would be okay. They were both A-class hunters, but Travis was no slouch either, and he had called for backup. That was always worrying. She felt useless here, laying around watching daytime TV and not even being able to exercise. At least her leg wasn't hurting her at the moment. She supposed she had to take her wins where she could find them.

Skye switched off the TV and laid fully back on the bed. The ceiling was a boring flat white. In the hotels she normally stayed, there would always be something interesting on the ceilings. Well, perhaps interesting isn't the correct word, but there would be something to look at anyway. It could be a stain of a mysterious origin or color, a tacky mirror centered directly above the bed (that Skye tried not to think about), or even the popcorn ceiling. It was like this hotel room refused to take on an identity of its own in case it might offend someone. Bland. Bland walls. Blank ceiling and uninspired carpet.

Skye flipped to her side. The room was on the ground floor, and she would have an excellent view of the parking lot if the curtains were open. Just a sliver of light shined through them. She traced it with her eyes watching the small particles in the air dance within it. A shadow flickered across darkening the room for a second before passing. Skye watched the door for a second, thinking that Liam might have returned, but when the door didn't open she sighed and reached for her laptop bag. She might as well try and find a case if she was going to be cooped up in this room all day.

It was just out of her reach, but she stretched her arm as far as it could reach until her fingertips just brushed the material. She groaned and reached a little further, trying to add some length to her arms that didn't exist. A small push with her good foot sent her tumbling to the ground hard.

"Oww," she groaned, before rolling to a sitting position and clutching her leg, which had been jarred from the fall.

"You need to be more careful," a gravelly voice spoke. Skye started at the voice, grabbing blindly for the knife she had put on the nightstand. Her hand hit the lamp, which shattered all over the floor. A piece of glass bit into her hand, but Skye didn't notice. Failing to find her knife immediately, she grabbed one of the larger pieces of glass and hurled it at the intruder, just milliseconds before she realized who it was. The glass hit its mark on Castiel's chest, but he just glanced at it before looking back to Skye.

She glared at the angel. Her palm was creating a blood stain on the floor, her leg was still throbbing from the fall, and her breathing was heavy from the fright. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," she panted sarcastically, knowing that arguing with Castiel was a lost cause. She tried to push herself off the ground so she wasn't having a conversation from the floor, but her palms just dug into the glass on the ground, and she gave up with a hiss of pain. "What do you want, Cas?"

"I want peace on earth and to fly with the bees. They really are extraordinary creatures," he said in all seriousness.

Skye tried not to smile. "I meant," she said. "Why are you here right now?"

"It has come to my attention that you are hurt. I was unable to get away until now."

"Oh?"Skye asked, still unsure about why he had appeared here so unexpectedly. If it was just to lecture her about being more careful, she wasn't too stoked about the visit.

"Yes," he said gravely. With no forewarning, he moved forward and was kneeling before Skye in an instant.

"Uh, whatcha doing there Columbo?" She asked uncomfortably.

He raised his hand and Skye shied away from it, as if from a rearing snake. "I have come to heal you," he said, brows furrowed in confusion. His hand was still held steady in the air.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Just-uh-a little warning next time would be good." She glanced away from his hand for an instant so she could examine the floor around her for glass. There was no way she would be sitting up any straighter without it cutting into her palms, but she was prepared for it this time and didn't show any signs of pain as it was pushed deep into her hands. When she looked back up Castiel's hand found her forehead, despite her words.

An all-encompassing white-hot fire filled her being. It was not at all unpleasant, in fact, her whole body rejoiced at a touch of grace. It lasted a mere second but spread from the touch on her head to the tip of her toes, and left behind a pleasant tingling as if all the nerve endings in her body were able to be fully relaxed for the first time in her life. Her eyes had drifted closed and she let free an involuntary sigh of contentment.

She slowly opened her eyes, forgetting for a moment that there was someone else in the room with her until she was staring into the blue depths of Castiel's eyes where the glow of his true form shined through. He was still only inches from her, but the warmth of his touch had disappeared. Eyes glued to his, she opened her mouth to thank him, for she knew all of her injuries were mended, but before she could form a word, he spoke abruptly.

"I am needed," Castiel said. He was on his feet in an instant and had disappeared before Skye could blink. She was left breathless in awe and confusion still surrounded by broken glass on the hotel floor.

 **A/N** : **Thank you to everyone who followed favorited and reviewed. Sorry this chapter took me so long to post! The next one will be very exciting. Leave me a review with what you thought, and I hope you all enjoyed :)**


	11. Chapter 10: Rebellion Never Dies

**Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.**

Chapter 10: Rebellion Never Dies

Liam returned just minutes after Castiel had disappeared to find Skye still in a mild state of shock on the floor. She didn't even notice he was back until she heard a thud and a whispered exclamation of her name. Her eyes found the tall Texan with his gun drawn searching the room for a threat.

"Liam!" she called to him, but his eyes only briefly flashed her way before he threw open the bathroom door and quickly swept the room, making sure to pull back the shower curtain.

"Liam!" Skye tried again using the beds on either side to hoist herself up without touching the glass again. The beds were far apart and she was not having an easy time due to the fact that, despite her leg being healed, she still couldn't bend it because of the splint.

Finally seeming to be satisfied that the room was free of imminent threats, Liam's long strides carried him to Skye, and he helped her to a standing position. "What happened?" he asked in concern.

Skye used the excuse of getting settled into a comfortable position on the bed to give herself some time to think before answering. She wondered if lies would be a more practical, if not prudent way to approach the situation. She guessed that Liam was thinking she was maybe having some stress related breakdown. Not only was she claiming that her dead brother had returned from the grave, but she had called him up out of the blue for a reason she hadn't even disclosed yet, and when he picked her up she looked horrible in ratty clothes and unbrushed hair. Then he left her alone for just a couple hours and came back to a slightly trashed hotel room, and her zoned out on the floor in the middle of the broken glass. Adding angels, the apocalypse, magical healing powers, and mysterious resurrections to the mix would not help put her on the positive side of the mental health wheel.

Then again, Liam was a hunter. To an extent, all hunters survived due to their unusually developed suspension of disbelief. She did have some proof. Dean and her disappearing injuries might be enough to actually convince him.

She wasn't going to mention anything about Sam. While she might be mad at her brother, one never did know exactly how another hunter would react about his demon powers, and there was no way that she would take that chance with his life. Was there a way that she could tell this story without throwing Sam under the bus? She supposed there was. Skye really didn't want to seem crazy because of the story, but she was out of excuses to avoid it. Plus, with the demons trying to kick-start the apocalypse, the Winchester's could take all of the help that they could get. Liam was a more than capable hunter. She had to tell him… This was going to be fun.

"Well," she started. "I was reaching for my laptop and I fell off the bed." She didn't quite meet his eyes at this admission. While Skye had decided to tell him the story, starting it off by making herself sound like a clumsy idiot probably wasn't the smartest choice. In her peripherals, she could see most of the tension leave Liam's frame, and he sat on the edge of her bed.

"Oh, well don't scare me like that again darlin'," he said. He leaned a little closer, propping himself on his elbow. "So where were you cut?" he asked, obviously having seen the blood on the carpet and glass. She had already forgotten about that. Well, it certainly made things easier to prove. She held her hands out to him with the palms up. He took them softly and almost immediately got a look of confusion on his face. Skye could almost hear the gears moving in his head.

"Someone else was here," he stated.

"I guess that depends on your definition of someone," she said. His eyes flashed around the room again before resting on her once more. One brow was cocked, and some of the stiffness had returned to his body. She took her hands away and started unraveling the splint on her leg. It was a good thing that she made sure to stretch often because it wasn't the easiest way to bend. He stopped her with a gentle touch.

"Allow me," he said. He may have been confused, but that didn't stop Liam from behaving like the gentleman he was.

Skye gave him a small smile and watched as he slowly unraveled the bandage. He was being careful like a person would be when they were afraid of hurting someone's broken leg. "It won't hurt," she told him. He paused and met her eyes, waiting for elaboration. "You aren't going to hurt me," she said softly. "Promise." Liam tilted his head to the side, reminding Skye of someone else she knew. She smiled a bit wider. Liam looked down and continued to unbandage the leg. The last piece of cloth fell away and he traced the leg with his eyes. The triangle bandages were still holding the wood in place, but all of the swelling, discoloration, and bruising had gone. No one who knew anything about injuries would believe that the leg had been broken the previous night. Liam had enough injuries of his own in the past to understand the inconsistencies between how her injuries should be presenting and how they actually were.

Liam took a deep breath and took out his knife to cut away the last bandages. With her leg finally released, Skye took the opportunity to flex it a bit and test how it felt. There was no pain or discomfort, and she silently thanked Castiel for all he did for her. She paid no notice to the tingling in her fingertips as she ran her hands along the perfect skin. She used to have a scar just above that knee. It was disconcerting to see it gone now, but the unblemished canvass was mesmerizing. Never in her life would Skye have thought-

Liam cleared his throat. His eyes were still upon Skye's face, watching the wonder, and confusion flit across it as she examined the leg. "Well, I'm stumped. Wanna explain what's happening yet?" he asked her.

"I'm not sure you'll believe me," she told him truthfully.

"Never know unless you tell me," he said with a crooked smile. His eyes flitted to her bare leg and it faltered a bit.

"Have you ever heard of angels?" she asked him.

"Only the one in front of me," he flirted, the cocky grin back in place.

Skye exhaled sharply in a huff of a laugh. "Funny," she said dryly.

"I was being serious," he said. Any hint of playfulness had dropped from his face and his eyes shined into hers with sincerity. Skye cleared her throat and looked away uncomfortably. Her heart was beating a bit too fast for her taste.

"Yeah-um- well- uh so was I," she said, suddenly interested in the comforter.

Liam laughed lowly. "Relax sweetheart," he said. "No funny business." he raised his hands to show he wasn't trying anything. "Can't blame a guy for taking a chance. Now tell me about these angels."

She peeked up at him and decided it was just best to continue with the story, or rather, to finally begin it. "It began about a week or so ago when I got a call from Bobby," she started. "He said he needed my help ASAP. So, I drove to South Dakota, and when I got there-" Skye took a deep breath. The memory of Dean's return was still fresh, and all of the emotions with his death were still heavily tied to it. "Uh- Dean answered the door," she said thickly. She wasn't crying, but Skye had trouble keeping all of the emotion out of her voice. She really needed to get a handle on her sensitivities. All of that time alone, being strong and doing the work of a team all by herself seemed to be catching up with her lately. As it always seems to happen in life, one can bear the weight of toil and hardship when needed, but when the necessity dissipates, the burden of the armor they had developed can sometimes be enough to independently crush a person. Skye was strong when she needed to be, but now that her brothers were back, and she had Liam too, it was like she forgot how to check her own emotions.

Liam waited a second before talking. Whether he was giving Skye time to compose herself or was just waiting for her to elaborate Skye didn't know but she appreciated it all the same. "That must have been a surprise. Let me guess," the smile returned on his face, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "You beat him up."

Skye laughed genuinely. "Well, beat up is such a harsh term... Let's just say that I detained him until I knew there was no funny business going on." She smiled at Liam. All of the stress had left the air. They chuckled together for a second, Liam at the thought of Skye winning against Dean, and Skye at the memory of how easily she had taken him down. She waved it off and pulled her legs under herself so she was sitting up straighter on the bed. "Anyway, after confirming it wasn't some _thing,_ we went to find Sam."

"He wasn't with you?" the Texan asked with raised eyebrows, obviously surprised. If he knew one thing about the oldest Winchester, it was that she stuck with her family- always- to protect them.

"Long story," she said.

"Code for you're not going to tell me," he guessed.

"You always were a smart one," she said teasingly.

"Ha! Fine. Continue sweetpea," he said as he got off the bed and walked towards the door where he had dropped the groceries. Skye followed him with her eyes, watching as he walked the load to the kitchenette and started putting the cold items in the fridge. There were only a few things and he was soon rifling through the bags that obviously didn't contain food.

"Well, we found Sam and then the four of us went to see a psychic. Ya know, try and figure out what pulled Dean from the pit."

"This where the angels come in?" Liam had walked back to Skye with two beers in his hand. He held one out to her in way of an offer.

"Yes and no," she said and took the beer. Liam lounged on the bed next to her, his back resting against the headboard and his feet stretched out in front of him. One arm was bent so that his hand supported the back of his head. The other held the beer lazily. Skye could feel the heat from his body and stretched out next to him in faux nonchalance. They both stared ahead as she continued to talk. "The psychic, Pamela, she tried to get a glimpse of the thing that rescued him, and it- it burned out her eyes," Skye said. The horror of it was still strong in her memory. Liam had looked at her in consternation at these words. No matter what they did for a living, it was still frightening to hear of a creature that could do something like that without even actually being present. She took a long drag of the beer. "But! We did get a name," she said with a optimistic energy. "Castiel." The name rolled off her tongue with a weighted reverence. Her fingers tingled again, as if in answer to the gravity of that particular utterance.

Skye cleared her throat, realizing she had been silent for a moment too long. "Anyway, from there we got confronted by demons. Sam disagreed about summoning Castiel. So me and Dean and Bobby did it." She turned to meet Liam's eyes. "I- I can't even explain. He's so _powerful._ He told us he was an angel and someone is trying to start the Apocalypse and I'm just so-" scared. The unsaid word hung in the air. She bit her lip in frustration. "I don't know what to do Liam…" Her eyes fell away from his. A heavy hand fell on top of hers and gave a light squeeze.

A small genuine smile graced her face and she shifted so her head rested lightly on his shoulder. The warmth of Liam's hand disappeared for a second as he pulled her close to him by the waist. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while. Neither felt the need to talk. There was nothing to say.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Thanks for not calling me crazy." Though she couldn't see his face, she could tell there was a smile on it.

"Sweetheart, I think you're a lot of things, but crazy ain't one of 'em."

Skye laughed. "You obviously haven't been paying enough attention." She nudged him lightly with her elbow, and his deep chuckle shook his chest.

"Whatever you say, love," he said good-naturedly. He nudged her back. "Com'on, you should go get cleaned up. I'm sure you feel pretty worn out."

She groaned. "Ugh. Fine." If Skye was being honest with herself, she was feeling better than she had in a very long time. All of her aches and pains had gone, and it had been a long time since she had been held so tenderly. She didn't want to get up, but she knew that she looked like crap and probably didn't smell the nicest either. Regretfully, she lifted her head and stretched out her muscles.

She gathered her clothes for after the shower and went to the bathroom. Just as she was about to shut the door, she turned to talk to him again. "If you're up for it, we should find a case. I'd be nice to fight something other than demons for once."

"Already on it," he said, lifting his beer, as if in a toast. She nodded in satisfaction and closed the door.

Skye and Liam found a hunt just a couple hours south in Louisiana. Three couples had disappeared over the past month. All of them had visited the same spot and left behind nothing but an empty car with open doors and no signs of a struggle. When Skye and Liam arrived, a fourth couple had just disappeared. They decided it was best for Liam to talk to the police and try to get some answers out of them, and coincidentally distract them from Skye poking around the scene to try and look for the signs only hunters would pick up.

She let him enter first while she surveyed the scene from afar. A rusty old Chevy was parked on the edge of an overlook off the dirt road they were on. There were spots for multiple cars to park around the area and she couldn't help but believe that this is one of the many 'makeout spots' that high school kids were generally so proud of having. There was a slope and a sharp drop off in front of the car. That slope would be the perfect place for someone to lie in wait for the right victim and circumstances. Skye found herself wondering if this was truly something supernatural or if they had come to investigate the whims of a serial killer or kidnapper. It wouldn't be the first time that she had checked out odd seeming crimes for them to just be psycho people. Usually, when that was the case she just let the law enforcement handle it.

While Skye had the tools to catch ghosts, and ghouls, when it came to the judicial system, she preferred to stay as far away from it as possible. They had fingerprinting and evidence analysis, and many other tools that Skye had never had a reason to own, let alone learn how to operate proficiently. Plus, there were enough people in the world with the skill set to catch humans. She figured if they were dealing with a human, the small hidden slope would be the place to look for evidence.

Liam was now approaching the police and flashed them a badge as he approached. The two detectives exchanged glances before starting to talk to him. Expertly, Liam made it seem like he was examining around the back of the car as he kept talking. The cops' eye followed him, and Skye took the opportunity to sneak to the slope. She moved quickly, and stayed low to the ground, making sure to stay in the blind spot of the detectives. Ian caught her eye and his own twitched with the wink that he wanted to give. She gave him a big smile and a thumbs up as she ducked out of sight. Sneaking always was one of her favorite parts of the job. Her brother always teased her about it, but she didn't care. There was just something so satisfying about filling a quick one over an authority figure. Skye briefly thought that probably had something to do with all the times she wanted to disobey her dad, but couldn't bring herself to- misplaced rebellion or something like that. She decided not to dwell on it too hard.

She ducked behind a bush, in case anyone glanced over anytime soon, and looked for the best way to get down onto the slope without the risk of falling all the way off the edge. It had rained recently and the ground was soft over here. She squinted to see if there were any visible footsteps or wilted plants. There were too many living plants for someone to have been through here and not have left a path. Good. It made Skye's job much easier. However, it also meant that someone would easily be able to spot her comings and goings through this area with more ease than she would have liked.

Deciding that it would be better to check for EMF before taking the risk of leaving footprints in the soil, Skye pulled the reader off her hip and put a single headphone in her ear. She nearly hissed in pain from the loud sounds that met her eardrums. Yes, they were definitely dealing with ghosts. There were no power lines anywhere near, and the sky was slightly overcast, but not nearly enough for a thunderstorm. She quickly turned off the reader and attached it back on her waistband, and very slowly and carefully lifted slightly from the crouching position to see over the bushes.

The sight in front of her was slightly amusing. Liam seemed to be in a small argument with the officers. He was gesturing towards the car with a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. One officer was rubbing the back of his neck in what she could only assume was in shame, and the other was standing straight-backed. The one with the straight back tried to get a word in and Liam quickly cut him off. Skye knew he really wasn't mad. His eyes were twinkling with mischief. He was really just giving her time to get her investigation over with before anyone became wise to Skye sneaking around, and he was doing a wonderful job. The last thing the detectives seemed to be thinking about was looking for intruders. In fact, if she didn't hurry, She was worrying that the straight-backed one might actually take a swing at Liam soon.

Stifling a chuckle, Skye remembered herself and snuck back into the car. She smiled to see Liam was already on his way back. He must not have wanted to piss them off too badly. He quickly got in and drove them away with a large grin splitting his face. She couldn't help the chuckle that finally escaped. "What on Earth were you saying to them?" she asked between her laughter.

"Just the usual questionin' of their intelligence." He grinned at her, then quickly sobered. "They didn't deem it necessary to have a lookout on this spot even after the first disappearances." Liam shook his head. "I may be wrong, but they coulda stopped this after the very first."

"Maybe." Skye agreed. "Hopefully, we won't have to find out. So, site positive for EMF, and no signs of a struggle that I could see. What did you find out?"

Liam's eyes flickered to Skye briefly before he started. "Three of the four couples who disappeared went to the local high school. Apparently, this what they call' make-out point'. Their words not mine." he added for emphasis. "The first to disappear was an older couple, probably trying to recreate the magic." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Skye tried to stifle her snort at that.

"So, the only thing they had in common was this spot?" she asked.

"Well, not exactly. The couple also went to the same high, only that was 40 years ago. Other than that, yes, so far as I can tell." he said.

"Interesting," she said. It seemed like they were dealing with a haunted location, but why was the ghost only making itself known now, in that exact spot and only with couples? "I guess that means we have to figure out who died here. I don't think we're looking for an exact date or else the ghost wouldn't be taking people so sporadically. That means they were either taken because they were in the wrong spot at the wrong time, or something they were doing angered the spirit."

"Or both," Liam added.

"Or both," she acquiesced.

"Well, I say we go get some food and a room- see if we can dig something up before the stakeout tonight."

"Stakeout?" she asked in surprise.

"Yep." he grinned. "Those two very _intelligent men_ -" Skye laughed at the way he stressed the word intelligent. "-have decided it would be in everyone's best interest to detour from that road, since no one lives on it anyway, for the time being until they have a lead. I gave them my full support for _their_ brilliant idea."

Skye laughed heartily again. "You're amazing. She said wiping a few tears of mirth away. "No wonder they were torn between being pissed and ashamed if you talked to them like that. If I ever dared say something so blatant, they would have just told me to let the big boys take care of business."

"Are you joking?" He looked at her sideways. "You've obviously never seen yourself acting all authoritative." He wet his lips with a quick flick of his tongue. "No man in his right mind would dare say anything against you when you get that fire in your eyes."

She ignored his obvious innuendo. "Yeah, try telling that to my brothers," she huffed, thinking mostly of the fight she and Sam had just had- her and Dean, too, for that matter. "That reminds me. I haven't got a call from those idiots today," she said this last part mostly to herself and glanced at her phone to check for any missed calls. There were none. Quickly shutting it, she decided against calling them just yet. If they didn't call by tonight, she would be sure to have a few words with them. Dean always called. No matter how mad he got at her, he always worried more than he let on. She knew she could count on him. Sam, on the other hand, she wasn't too sure about. She just had to have patience and hope that he came around. After all, she got away from them so she could have a few days to recuperate. Worrying about them when it was only a couple hours into the day would be counterproductive. Still, she made sure the ringtone was up so it would be hard to miss when they did finally reach out to her.

The car slowed to a stop and she glanced up from the black screen at which she had been staring. She hadn't even noticed the turn off the back roads and into the town. She must've zoned out for longer than she thought.

"So, what're you hungry for? Pizza? Burger? Italian?" Liam asked. Skye shrugged.

"Anywhere that has coffee." She said. The stoplight they were at turned green and the truck rolled forward slowly.

 **A/N: Sorry if this chapter was a bit boring. It was meant to get much further into the case, but it was just getting much too long, and I figured this was the best cut off point. Since I'm already a few pages into writing the next chapter, it should be here by the weekend, and this one will have all the excitement I left out of this chapter. Happy reading, and leave me a review to let me know what you think (the good and the bad).**


	12. Chapter 11: Dude Looks Like a Lady

**Disclaimer: Supernatural or any other song or show reference does not belong to me.**

 **A/N Enjoy, and thank you to all who followed and favorited, as well as the wonderful reviewers.**

Chapter 11: Dude Looks Like a Lady

Liam looked out of place in the coffee shop and bakery. He's not the type of man one would imagine eating a croissant and drinking from a china cup, but he managed alright with a giant roast beef sandwich and a steaming cup of joe.

Skye sat across from him with her laptop in front of her, hunched slightly as she stared intently at the screen. Her own sandwich was untouched.

"Find anything darlin'?"

"Not sure yet," Skye said without looking up. She took a long drink from her coffee cup and let out a small groan of appreciation.

Liam laughed. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were having a love affair with that drink."

"Mmmmm. No man's ever treated me better than coffee," she said dismissively, clicking the keyboard on her laptop a few times.

"Well, ain't that the saddest thing I ever heard," he said half to himself. Skye waved a hand dismissively, before turning the screen to face Liam.

He raised an eyebrow in question. "You're showing me a map?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll bite. What exactly am I supposed to be seeing?" He asked.

Skye shook her head. "Nothing yet, but…" she turned the computer back towards herself and clicked a few times before turning it back to him. The first map was still there, but this time it was overlaid with topographic lines She double clicked and zoomed in. "This is where the site of the disappearances were, and this…" she moved the cursor just over where the steep drop off was. "Is where this accident happened 40 years ago." Skye clicked open an article that had been minimized.

 _Death at the Gorge_

 _The body of Mina Davis, 19, was discovered Tuesday night after being reported missing 36 hours prior. Police have ruled it accidental death due to rainfall. No vehicle was found near the scene and investigators are still asking for information as to why Mina was near the gorge the night of her death._

 _Mina's parents are missing their, "Beautiful and loving baby girl with all our [their] hearts." Her wake will be held….._

Liam didn't bother finishing the article, having seen all he needed. "So, you think she did this?"

"I mean, it fits. And that first couple went to school at the same time she did…" Skye trailed off.

"Which means that their presence could have awakened her spirit." he finished.

Skye gave him a big smile. Her dimples dug into her cheeks. "Mmhmm. My guess is she saw where she could have been, and the rage at her death got the best of her. And, once a spirit's awake we're really the only people who know how to stop it."

Liam nodded but his face was contemplative. "There's just one thing I don't get. If she killed them out of rage, where are the bodies?"

"Down the gorge?" Skye guessed, a little unsure now.

"Nah, I don't think so. No matter how incompetent, the police wouldn't have missed that."

Skye frowned. "Gimme a sec," she said, swiveling her computer back to face her. She clicked away for a few seconds. "Damn it!" she swore a bit too loudly. A waitress walking by gave her a funny look. Liam laughed and switched to her side of the table.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked.

"Can't access the police server," she said dejectedly.

"Ah, leave the police to me. See if you can pull up Mina's hospital records."

"I can try," Skye said with a grin. "The Library was surprisingly up to date with their records. We can only hope that someone decided to digitize all the old hospital records as well." Digitization made the job of a hunter much easier if one knew how to properly use it. Not only did it make accessing the records more straightforward, but it also made it more anonymous. Skye could remember going through paper records with her father when she was younger and into her early teens. Either he would get copies from the department, or he would make her or her siblings sneak them out. He thought it was good practice for them, and the younger they were, the more easily he could play it off if they got caught. She couldn't count the number of hours that she spent snooping through file cabinets in her life. She was just fine with it when she could find out all she needed from the comfort of her, or rather the motel's, bed. Luckily, Sammy had taught her a few things on how to break through passwords and be in and out before any alarms went off. The kid was a freaky genius sometimes.

"There," she said, perhaps a bit smugly as she accessed Mina Davis's personal health records.

"Great," Liam said, clapping his hands. They both read through it in silence. "Stop," Liam told her. "She had a sister, Kaitlyn. Six years younger. That would make her 13 when her sister died. What do you want to bet that a thirteen-year-old would notice something that the parents overlooked?"

Skye shrugged. "It's worth a try."

"Right," Liam clapped again and got up from the seat, dropping some money on the table. "You take care of that, and I'll go talk to the police again."

"Hey! I never agreed to that!" She said scooting out of the booth. Liam held out a hand to help her. She lost balance a bit from the strength of his pull and stumbled into him. She straightened up quickly, pretending it never happened, but her heart was beating a bit quicker than she would have liked it. She could feel her ears burning from embarrassment, and was very grateful for her long hair at that moment.

Liam ignored the incident, but she noticed that his smile was a bit wider than normal. "Would you rather talk to our friends from earlier?" he asked.

"Well, no," she said and sighed. "Fine. I'll see if I can track her down, but you owe me one." She didn't say that she really didn't want those types of memories brought back up for her, but she wasn't going to get away from stories of death, and loved ones dying in her line of work. Might as well get used to it, as morbid as that sounded.

"Of course darlin'," he mock bowed, sweeping his hand out to gesture towards the door. "Shall we?"

It only took Skye a few minutes during their drive to figure out what became of the sister, and luckily Kaitlyn lived in the area still. She was unmarried and had a small house just outside of town in a semi-secluded patch of woods. "Just drop me here, and go take care of business," Skye said to Liam, who had pulled to the end of the dirt driveway. There was one car in the driveway, and Skye took that for confirmation that the girl was home. The records said that she was unmarried and without any children. Skye couldn't help but have a pang of sympathy for the girl. Skye knew she would probably end up dead before she reached that age, but chances were she would never have someone to call her own either. She shook her head and jumped out of Liam's truck, enjoying the crunch of the gravel underneath her boots.

The truck pulled away, and Skye stopped herself from watching it leave. It's not that she was scared to be here alone, but it was nice to have someone around at times like this. If the conversation took a direction that she didn't like, Skye was always able to excuse herself to the bathroom when she had a partner, and in doing so, she could look around a bit in case anything odd was going on. Now she didn't have that option, and she had to wait for Liam to go to the police station and back. While it was only a couple of miles away, being without her own car made Skye feel exposed, naked.

She grit her teeth, plastered on her professional face and walked to the door with confident steps. Knock, knock!

"Can I help you?"

Skye whipped around at the sound of a voice off to her right. "Oh, hello," she said, quickly scanning the area for anyone else she might've missed. Her dad would have had a lot to say about her letting someone surprise her, especially a middle-aged woman who looked like she had seen better days. "Yes, I was just looking for Kaitlyn Davis."

"You found her dear. I'm afraid I'm not interested in any subscriptions at the moment. It's just me and my birds here, and I already get Home and Garden," Kaitlyn said as she took off her gardening gloves. That could have been why Skye missed her. There was a small pile of weeds where she had obviously been working, and the knees of her pants were stained with dirt.

Sensing that this woman didn't get a whole lot of company, Skye decided to do a little bit of buttering up. "Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me. I'm Karen Carpenter. I just moved in a little down the road. You have a beautiful flower bed. I always loved gardening but never had space for it. Would you like some help?"

"Oh, no thank you. I was just finishing up anyway. It'll be nice to have a new neighbor. None of the folk around here stop by too much. I didn't even know there were any houses for sale around here."

"Well, there wasn't. My husband and I wanted to build our own house and he works not too far away. So, we just bought some land to build on. It'll be awhile until the house is finished, but we're renting a room in the city until then." Skye made sure and tucked her left hand into her pocket while she was talking so that it wouldn't be immediately obvious that she wasn't wearing a wedding ring.

"Newlyweds?" Guessed Kaitlyn.

"Mmhmm," Skye hummed, making sure to put the biggest smile she could manage on her face. "We just got married last year, and I just found out our family is expanding. So, it was now or never on the house." Skye rubbed her stomach like she had seen so many pregnant women do before and wanted to barf due to the sap coming out of her mouth.

"Oh, congratulations! Was that your husband who dropped you off? I didn't get to see much of him, but he looked very handsome." Skye nodded in affirmation, her cheeks hurting from the smile she hadn't been able to let drop yet. "You should have told him to stay!" Kaitlyn said cheerfully. I don't get many visitors. It'll be nice to have some new families around. Why don't you come in and get out of the sun? We can chat inside, and you can meet my birds."

Skye resisted the urge to decline and followed the woman inside. "That would be nice. My husband was just dropping me off. He had a few errands to run. He'll be back soon to pick me up, but I couldn't resist trying to meet a few people around. It does get so boring away from family."

"Yes, yes. I know what you mean. The only family I have is Georgie and Mina here." She walked Skye up to a birdcage with two cockatoos hopping around. "Pretty birds," she cooed, and the two birds copied the sound. Skye stopped the eye roll. At least it wasn't cats.

"You don't have any family close either?" she asked, her eyes moving from the birds to Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn didn't look away from her birds, but her eyes seemed to go out of focus a bit.

"No, just me. My parents died a few years ago."

Skye gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pry. It's never easy to lose a parent. I lost my dad a couple of years ago, and my brother last June. I've never felt pain that bad before." Skye didn't have to fake the tear that ran down her cheek. Kaitlyn still hadn't looked at her, but her own eyes were misty now.

"Yes. I lost my sister, too." She almost whispered. Skye put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Did you want to talk about it? I wasn't the same until I could get some guilt off my chest about my brother. He was attacked by a wild animal." She sniffed and shook her head in self-loathing. "It was all my fault. I sent him out that night. I asked him to walk over. I was so happy to tell him that he was gonna be an uncle." Skye took a shaky breath. "I guess he'll never know." She took a minute to pretend to compose herself. "I'm sorry." She smiled weakly. "Hormones, but I'd like to hear your story if you want to tell it to me. It might help."

Skye could tell that she had struck a chord with the older woman, who was staring at the bird, Mina. This was obviously something that had been weighing on her for a long time, and hopefully, it helped her move on and maybe Skye would figure out where the bodies of the missing people may be.

Kaitlyn walked forward as if in a daze and Skye followed at a distance. They entered a cluttered living area. It was furnished with an olive green recliner and couch set. The carpet was a brown shag and lots of trinkets lined small tables and shelves scattered throughout the room. The air smelled of dust. Kaitlyn was standing in front of a picture on the wall. Her back was to Skye, and she reached out a shaky hand to take the picture down. "This was my sister Mina," Kaitlyn said, tracing the picture with her fingertips.

"She was very beautiful," Skye said in a soft voice.

Kaitlyn nodded. "Yes, she died far too young. She should be playing with her grandkids right now."

"What happened?" Skye whispered.

"She fell off the Gorge," Kaitlyn said. Her eyes finally left the picture to bore into Skye's green orbs. "I was too afraid to say something at the time. I was only 13, but she and I used to go to this spot across the Gorge. We thought we were invincible. When we were little we found this small rope bridge that went across, into a little cave. It wasn't safe, but…" she took a deep breath. Skye didn't dare interrupt her. "You know how kids are. We didn't think anything through the whole way. I heard her talking, the night she-" Kaitlyn stopped. Skye knew she couldn't bring herself to say the word died. "Anyway, she was going out with her boyfriend. She was going to show them our spot. I didn't want her to show anyone. That was our spot. We fought, and she ended up storming out of there. I don't know what happened, but she didn't come back. I went looking for her, but the rope was broken- hanging- when I got there. I was so scared. I didn't want to get in trouble. I grabbed the rope and came home. My parents were frantic. Her boyfriend slit his wrists a month later. I never got a chance to talk to him. I don't think I wanted to know…" There were tears leaking down Kaitlyn's face at this point. "I never said anything. I know she must've fell trying to cross, but I…" she stopped like she was just realizing that she was talking to another person again. "Ah, don't listen to an old lady. That was 40 years ago. Why don't I get you some tea?"

Skye tried to smile but knew it didn't quite reach her eyes. "No need to apologize. This has obviously been weighing on you for some time. I think my husband just pulled up though. Let me give you my number," Skye said pulling a scrap of paper and a pen from her jacket pocket. She smiled warmly at the woman. "Give me a call if you need anything. Anything at all. I'm just a phone call away." Skye was surprised when Kaitlyn pulled her into a hug. She hugged her back warmly, before turning back toward the door. Well, that was certainly informative. She hoped Liam had as good of luck. He was waiting in the driveway patiently.

"Find anything sugar?" he asked as she jumped into the truck.

"Oh yeah. Let's go get that room. I think we need a new plan. "

"Got everything?" Skye asked as Liam entered the motel room, a canvas bag clutched in his hand and his own bag of weapons slung over his shoulder.

"It's all here. You sure this plan is going to work?" he asked.

"It's the best I have. Unless you have any better plans..?" She trailed off and Liam stayed silent. "Didn't think so. Come on. Let's get this show on the road." She grabbed a small backpack and slung it over her shoulders. She fastened two clips so that it was secure around her middle. Liam held the door open for her and they disappeared into the dark night.

They parked just in front of the overlook, where the last car had been discovered. Skye was feeling anxious for the first time that night. It was a cloudy moonless night, and she could barely see a foot in front of her face. She took a deep breath as Liam cut the engine. Utter silence rang in her ears. She didn't want to be the one to break it.

"So, we just wait?" Liam asked in his Texan dialect.

Skye cleared her throat, uncomfortable with what she was about to say. "Well, um, when the other couples were taken I imagine they were… You know." She said, growing more anxious by the second. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, and her stomach was flipping like she was gonna be sick.

"Ah," Liam chuckled. "I won't do anything you don't want sugar," he said into the darkness. "Just tell me what you need."

She could feel his eyes on her, though she could only see his outline in the dark. Swallowing the lump in her throat she said, barely above a whisper, "Kiss me, Liam."

And then his lips were on hers, warm and inviting and molding to hers perfectly. She let out a gasp at the electricity she felt. His large hands ran through her hair, massaging her scalp. Her heart beat faster, responding to the touch. She forgot about their mission, forgot about all the reasons she wasn't supposed to do this and just _felt._ Her hands were on his chest and she dug in her nails slightly, feeling the well-defined muscles. He let out a shiver at the touch and his kiss became more insistent. His tongue asked for permission to enter her mouth and she eagerly allowed him in, their tongues mingled hungrily, until she had to pull back for breath, panting heavily. Liam's lips didn't leave her skin. His lips traveled to her neck, nipping lightly and making her let out an involuntary moan while her body arched into his. Her hands traveled up his body and gently grabbed the hair on the back of his head. He growled at the touch his lips finally leaving her neck. He cupped her face with reverence.

"Skye, I-"

 _AHH! AHH! DUDE LOOKS LIKE A LADY!_

Skye and Liam both jumped at the loud noise that erupted from her pocket. As the ringtone played she eased herself from Liam's grasp, letting out a nervous laugh that turned genuine when Liam joined in.

"It's Sam," she said. "I have to get this." She flipped open the phone and answered with a chuckle in her voice. What were little brothers for, if not to interrupt something like that? "Hey, Sam. Glad you called, but I was kinda in the middle of something," she managed. She could see Liam's silhouette leaning back, obviously trying to get a hold of himself, but she heard a chuckle rumble his chest, so she guessed everything was okay.

"Ah, sorry. Me and Dean were just calling to let you know everything's okay. I… guess I'll let you go," Sam said unsurely.

"Thanks for calling little bro," she said genuinely. "I'll give you a call when we're done with this case. Stay safe."

"Yeah, you too." He said. The line cut and Skye snapped her phone shut. Liam straightened up and she didn't have to see his face clearly to know that he had an eyebrow cocked, and that crooked smile on his face.

"Dude Looks Like a Lady?" he questioned shortly.

Skye shrugged and let another chuckle escape. "Best thing I could think to describe him when I set my ringtones. Dude spends more time on his hair than anyone I know." She laughed. "And I might've been a little inebriated at the time, but, you know, if the shoe fits."

"Ah," the Texan said, amusement plain in his voice. It dropped a octave. "Now, where were we?" he asked. Her breath hitched as he pulled her close again, his breath tickling her face. And then… blackness took her vision, and she knew no more.

 **A/N Again, I didn't make it to where I wanted to end the chapter, but I hope the cliffhanger doesn't anger everyone too much! Thank you to those who followed and favorited. :) I'd really appreciate a review if you liked it, or what you think I could improve on. Next chapter will be coming soon, but reviews may motivate that to be faster… who knows. Until Next Time!**


	13. Chapter 12: Internal Surprises

Chapter 12: Internal Surprises

Something was very wrong. Skye knew that before she had even fully roused to her senses. She hurt. Every muscle in her body was sore. The ground underneath her was hard, and it jutted sharply in her sides and ribs. She reminded herself to keep her breathing under control. It wouldn't do for someone to realize she was awake before she was able to take stock of the situation. It was hard though. The air was filled with the rotten stench of decay. It was moist, and any hope for a breath of fresh air over the smell was overshadowed by the spores of mold that clung to the air.

She was laying partially on her side, and a barely noticeable wiggle of her hands told her that they were bound tightly. She could feel the ropes digging into her wrists, making them raw. The weight from the backpack she had worn was missing, and she momentarily let panic overtake her before pushing it back down. That rope in the backpack was the only way that she and Liam were able to conceive getting out of the cave across the gorge if indeed that is where they were.

A scruffing sound almost startled her, but she concentrated on pretending to still be passed out, and trying to get her bearings. It was harder said than done as she could feel a sharp rock pressing into her skull. The scuffing sounded again and she was able to place it somewhere behind her. With this in mind, Skye chanced just the smallest of peeks through her eyelids. It was dark, darker than she remembered it being in the car. A patch of moss caught her eye, and she realized that she must be facing a wall of the cave. This was far from ideal because that meant that her hands were in perfect view of the rest of the space. She inwardly cursed, but remained limp and breathing deeply.

There was nothing else for it. Skye realized that she had two choices. One: she could wait and hope that she could hear someone, whoever made the scuffing sound, left and gave her the opportunity to turn and free herself. The problem with this was that left her back vulnerable, and she lost any element of surprise if they realized she was awake or they never left. The other choice was not ideal either. She could envision it in her mind but that was far different than trying to move quickly when she knew that her arm and leg were asleep from the awkward position she was laying on them. Plus, if someone saw her move before she could get her hands in front of her, it was almost a guaranteed loss. Then again, her dad had taught her to act fast. Often times when she was in what seemed to be a helpless situation, all it took was one quick, unexpected motion to get her back on top.

She gritted her teeth, her mind made up, and quick as she could possibly manage, she used her abs to swing her body around, and in one swift motion, she used her legs to hop over her hands and get them in front of her. Her shoulder protested at the moment and she fought through the pain to gain her feet. Heart beating wildly, Skye's eyes scanned the room quickly, and she had to suppress a gag at the sight that met her.

Grey light of the dawn was just filtering into their environment, and she could clearly see the bodies that littered the floor of the cave. All in various stages of decay, she could see all eight bodies of, she could only assume, the missing couples that they had been seeking. Throat clenching tightly from anger and sorrow, she pushed her emotion away and quickly used the rock her head had been resting on to serrate the ropes. It was wearing on her wrists, but she ignored the raw burn and snapped them free. The scuffle sounded again, and she spun quickly, grabbing a loose rock as she did. Liam laid there, obviously still unconscious and with a blood-crusted head.

She ran to him, letting the rock clatter to the floor as she did. On her knees, she assessed the wound on his forehead. It didn't look serious, but it was always hard to tell with head wounds. He was unconscious and that was never a good sign. Then again, she had been unconscious and she had no idea how that had come about either.

"Liam," she hissed, needing to wake him, but still wary that they were probably not completely alone. He groaned but didn't rouse. She pulled her sleeve over her hand, dirty though it was from laying on the ground, and tried to clean some of the blood from the wound. She must've hit the wrong spot because his eyes snapped open in pain. They darted around in obvious alarm, and his breath came heavy and quick. Needing to calm him quickly, Skye took his face between her hands and forced him to meet her eyes. "Hey. Look at me." She said softly but unforcefully. He looked away in obvious fear, still not seeming to recognize her. "Look at me," she tried again. "It's okay. It's just me, Skye. Liam, please." Her fear was wanting to bubble up, but she held herself together for him. If she was the only one who was aware of what was going on then she needed to think clearly.

Ever so slowly his breathing calmed and he finally met her eyes. "Skye?" he asked.

She almost laughed in relief but settled for a smile. "Yeah, it's me. Come on. I don't know what's happening, but we need to get out of here." He sat up with a groan, and he surveyed the room quickly, just as she had done. She saw his eyes darken when his gaze passed the spot where she knew the pile of bodies lay. He shook his head, trying to figure out the situation, despite the concussion she guessed he had. He tried to sit up quickly, and nearly careened his head into the nearest wall again.

"Woah," Skye said as she caught him. "We gotta get you out of here in one piece. I don't think I'll be able to carry you out of this one."

Liam shook his head. "I'm fine." He sat up again, this time much more slowly and used Skye and the wall to stand up straight.

"Do you know what happened?"

"I've no idea. One second we were…" he trailed off. "Next thing I know, I felt something hit my head and then you again."

Skye frowned. That was basically all she remembered too, minus the hit to the head. No matter. They had to get out of here, and they could figure out the details later. She didn't have anything to fight with, and she would hate to have to fight a ghost without any salt, although something told her they weren't fighting a ghost anymore. A ghost wouldn't have taken her stuff and tied her up. They just didn't think like that. It made the situation, if it was possible, even more, dangerous because they didn't have any information on what it was or why it was attacking people.

"Get your bearings and try to find something to use as a weapon," she instructed. "I need to find something to get us down the cliff." He nodded. Liam was never one that needed to have control. He wasn't afraid to work alone or make decisions, but Skye was used to making the plans, and she had her whole life of experience in this line of work. Liam only had a few years. She was the more experienced one and, unlike most men, he wasn't against admitting when someone might be better at something than he was.

"Yes, ma'am," he told her in his Texan accent, probably trying to lighten the mood a bit. Skye gave him a sly smile and hurried to work. First, she checked the opening of the cave. Fog hung heavily in the morning air, and she breathed deep, happy to be away from the stench of death. At least a hundred feet from the ground, Skye thought she could free climb down, but with the head wound Liam had, it would be much more difficult. There was a small ledge about twenty feet down and she figured if she could fashion something to serve as a rope then she would be able to lower him down and then climb down after. It wasn't the greatest plan, but it was the best one she had at the moment. She didn't dare wait any longer. Whatever took them would be back soon enough and they had to get out of here and better prepare.

Hurrying back in, she saw the pile of rotting bodies, the newest ones still had the horrible grins of rigor mortis on their faces. She knew what she had to do, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. Liam was already searching through the bodies, She couldn't see his face too well, but she knew with his head wound and the smell permeating the air it had to be a nice shade of green.

Hating the words that we about to leave her mouth she approached him. "We have to take off their clothes," she told him with a grimace. Liam just nodded, seeming to know what she was thinking of, or maybe he just didn't want to open his mouth. She didn't blame him. It was bad enough smelling death, but opening your mouth was just like tasting it.

He started stripping the jeans off the first one as she kneeled next to him, but his movement stilled suddenly. She glanced at him and followed his eyesight. Sulfur. Fucking perfect. She wanted to hit something, but instead just said a whispered, "Hurry."

They removed all the clothing and Skye quickly started tying them together. Some of the shirts and a skirt weren't going to be up to hold any weight and she quickly threw them aside, wishing that she could show some more modesty to the dead in front of her, but if she took any longer she and Liam might be joining their ranks. She finished and looked at Liam. His eyes were unfocused as he watched her work. "You okay?"

He nodded and tried to give her a smile, but it was obviously painful for him to jar his head that way. "Course darlin'," he said. She looked at him doubtfully but realized that they didn't have time to do this. He wouldn't be okay if he couldn't leave here. It was best to just trust that he could handle this. He was strong and capable. They could do this.

Skye handed him one side of the makeshift rope, giving it one last tug to test the tensile strength again. It seemed sturdy enough. She hoped she was right. "Tie this around your waist. You're going down first."

This caught Liam's attention. "No," he said softly. "You wear it. I'll lower you down, and you can come back for me." His eyes bore deeply into hers and she could see that he couldn't live with himself if she got out of this and he didn't. Making a quick decision, Skye stepped up to him and grabbed his face between her hands.

"Trust me. I can climb down, but you can't. This is the only way to get us both out and we need to _hurry._ " she stressed. His eyes searched hers and very slowly he nodded. She let out a breath of relief. "Good," she reached around and fastened it around his waist. "Let's go."

They hurried to the ledge. She didn't like how his eyes reacted to the new light, but she said nothing. "There's a ledge about 20 feet down. I'll lower you to it, and then I'll climb down after you." Her voice was all business, but her heart was beating far too quickly. "Try to climb down. I don't know how much I can trust this rope, but I'll brace myself here," at this, she pointed to a lip in the ledge where she could dig her feet in. "And I'll be right down after you." Liam opened his mouth as if to argue, but he snapped it shut at one look from her. "Good," she concluded, and then turned to find her footing, but she was grabbed around the waist and spun around before she could let out a breath of surprise.

Liam pulled her close and was kissing her hard, almost desperately. It was short and urgent and she reciprocated with equal vigor, not sure how this endeavor would end. When he pulled back they were both out of breath. "One for luck," he said with a hint of a tease in his voice.

She smiled for him, trying to reassure him with her eyes. "Go," she turned him around and sat on the ledge to be able to more easily brace his weight with her legs. "I'll be right behind you." He lowered himself over the edge and she felt some slight tugs as he climbed down, but nothing that worried her too much. Maybe two minutes later she heard him call up that she could come down. Skye walked over to the edge and saw him looking up at her from down below. He looked a bit unsteady on his feet, but he had made it and she knew they could do this. She threw the other end of their rope down and took a deep breath before going to lower herself down.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Skye closed her eyes, praying that she was hearing any voice besides the menacing one just behind her. She knew that voice. She had heard it just the past day. Kaitnlyn. Skye took a deep breath. There was no way that she would be able to get down to Liam before she was caught. He was on her own and so was she. Unfortunately, she was alone with a demon and her only backup was far from civilization and nursing a pretty nasty concussion. If he was able to somehow make it down by himself and not get noticed, then he would still have to travel who knows how far to get to a phone. Silently Skye just wished that he would get to safety, whether or not she was able to herself. At least that way her brothers and Bobby would know what had happened to her.

She turned slowly towards the sound of Kaitlyn. There were no weapons around except for rocks and those would be pretty ineffective against a demon. The only way that she was going to be able to buy any time to maybe have a plan would be to act demure and scared. Villains-101 said that when they had passed up a chance to kill you once then they had to have some kind of scheme that they wanted to reveal or gloat about. They could go on for quite a while if they thought they thought you had no way out. On the other hand. Demons weren't known for their mercy and if you fought back, they always preserved themselves first.

Skye clenched her jaw, trying to contain the fury that she felt. She looked into the eyes of the demon and the glee in the onyx pearls caused her self-control to slip. There was no way that she could just demurely do as this abomination asked in hopes that rescue could reach her before it turned fatal. "Bitch," she growled under her breath. "Tell me. Why this charade? You could have killed me before." Skye was loath to admit it, but she had never suspected Kaitlyn to be possessed, and she had been unaware of her presence at first. It would have been so simple for a snap of the neck.

Kaitlyn put a mock hand over her heart. "Oh my! My poor sensibilities are wounded! I think I might feel faint!" Kaitlyn faked a swoon before a mocking grin overtook her face. "Then again-" The grin turned sinister, and before Skye had time to retaliate, the demon had materialized in front of her and clasped her throat tightly in hand.

Skye gasped for breath. Her body automatically created dead weight, but that was something that only tended to deter human attackers. Demons were much stronger and didn't seem to have any trouble holding up the whole of her body using just one hand. Skye changed tactics and tried to sweep the feet out from under Kaitlyn but her body was hoisted higher so that her feet were dangling above the ground. Her face was a deep purple and she could feel blood vessels on her eyes popping. In a last-ditch effort, Skye braced her legs off the body of the demon and wrenched the fourth finger of the woman back in one swift movement. The grasp on her neck loosened momentarily, just long enough for Skye to get in a couple hysterical breaths before once again feeling the fingers slowly tightening once again.

Skye fought. Every muscle pushed or pulled or tried to force herself free, but blackness took her. The last thoughts she had were of her brothers framed by a white light so bright she wondered if she was even in the darkness at all.

Spots danced on her vision and she could hear yelling. The words sounded from a distance and she had trouble concentrating on them. Screaming? Was that her name that someone was saying? Then it all came crashing down on her at once. That was Liam's voice, and the weight was gone from her throat. Her eyes snapped open and she frantically bolted upright. Her head spun for a moment and her injuries made themselves known once more.

Adrenaline coursed through her and she was able to take in the scene in what seemed like slow motion. Liam had obviously not done the smart thing and climbed back down when he heard voices and instead had decided to return to the top. He was breathing heavily, and even with the demon flying to cover the distance to him, his eyes never left Skye. She knew it would happen before it did. Liam's eyes shined with a reassuring sadness that shook her to her core.

"No!" She screamed, all the terror and desperation trying to claw itself out from her heart. One step forward and she fell to her knees as the demon reached him and he was pushed to from the edge of the cliff. His eyes never left hers, and his hand covered his heart as he fell. She did not need to hear the dull thump of his body connecting with the ground or the triumphant cackle from the demon to understand that she wouldn't be seeing life in Liam's eyes again. Skye was left to do the only thing she could at this point. She closed her eyes, numbing herself to the pain of loss, and tasted the morning dew on her tongue as she breathed deeply.

One thing no monster can attest to is the fact that an angry and grief-stricken Winchester is one of the most dangerous creatures to walk the planet. This fact is true for one reason and one reason only: those who angered a Winchester to that degree died. There were no exceptions. There were no reprieves. And at this moment, Skye did not even register that she had a body and a soul that could be used to make a monster do its bidding. All she knew was that the second the light was blocked from her face something in her snapped.

Red. Pain. Black abyss

When Skye next woke, she was alone.

 **A/N:**

 **Apologies for taking so long on this chapter, and it's shorter than normal length. Truthfully I did this scene at least five different ways before I settled on one. I'm still not sure that it's the one that I wanted, but I'll always listen to feedback if you have any. So be sure to leave a review.**

 **Thank you to everyone who followed/favorited! Till next time!**


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